THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE 

SHENANDOAH 


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THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH 


=  FOR  SALE  EVERYWHERE. 


BY 

COL.  BONN  PIATT, 

Author  of  "  The  Lone  Grave  of  the  Shenandoah,"1"1  etc. 
Editor  of  "  Belford  s  Magazine"  etc.,  etc. 


121110,    clotli,    gilt    top,    $1.50. 


The  Westminster  Review^  which  is  the  ablest  of  the  great 
Reviews  of  Europe,  says  of  the  above  book,  that  it  is  the  best- 
written  and  most  delightful  work  by  an  American  that  has 
reached  London  in  half  a  century. 


BELFORD,  CLARKE  &  CO,,  Publishers, 

Chicago,  New  York,  and  San  Francisco. 


THE 


LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH 


AND    OTHER    TALES 


BY  DOS ^  PI  ATT 


BELFORD,    CLARKE    &  CO. 
CHICAGO,  NEW  YORK.   AND  SAX   FRANCISCO 

1888 


COPYRIGHT,  1888, 
BY  BELFORD,  CLARKE  &  COMPANY. 


DEDICATED 

Go  flD    Wife. 


THE  BLOOM  WAS  ON  THE  ALDER  AND  THE  TASSEL  ON  THE  CORN. 

T  HEARD  the  bob-white  whistle  in  the  dewy  breath  of  morn  ; 

The  bloom  was  on  the  alder  aud  the  tassel  on  the  corn. 
I  stood  with  beating  heart  beside  the  babbling  Mac  o-chee, 
To  see  my  love  come  down  the  glen  to  keep  her  tryst  with  me. 

I  saw  her  pace,  with  quiet  grace,  the  shaded  path  along, 
And  pause  to  pluck  a  flower,  or  hear  the  thrush's  song. 
Denied  by  her  proud  father  as  a  suitor  to  be  seen, 
She  came  to  me,  with  loving  trust,  my  gracious  little  queen. 

Above  my  station,  Heaven  knows,  that  gentle  maiden  shone, 
For  she  was  belle  and  wide  beloved,  and  I  a  youth  unknown, 
The  rich  and  great  about  her  thronged,  and  sought  on  bended  knee 
For  love  this  gracious  princess  gave  with  all  her  heart  to  me. 

So,  like  a  startled  fawn,  before  my  longing  eyes  she  stood, 

With  all  the  freshness  of  a  girl  in  flush  of  womanhood. 

I  trembled  as  I  put  my  arm  about  her  form  divine, 

And  stammered  as,  in  awkward  speech,  I  begged  her  to  be  mine. 

'Tis  sweet  to  hear  the  pattering  rain  that  lulls  a  dim-lit  dream ; 
'Tis  sweet  to  hear  the  song  of  birds,  and  sweet  the  rippling  stream ; 
'Tis  sweet  amid  the  mountain  pines  to  hear  the  south  winds  sigh — 
More  sweet  than  these  and  all  besides  was  th'  loving,  low  reply. 

The  little  hand  I  held  in  mine  held  all  I  had  of  life, 

To  mould  its  better  destiny  and  soothe  to  sleep  its  strife. 

'Tis  said  that  angels  watch  o'er  men,  commissioned  from  above; 

My  angel  walked  with  me  on  earth  and  gave  to  me  her  love. 

Ah  !  dearest  wife,  my  heart  is  stirred,  my  eyes  are  dim  with  tears ; 
I  think  upon  the  loving  faith  of  all  these  bygone  years  : 
For  now  we  stand  upon  this  spot,  as  in  that  dewy  morn, 
With  the  bloom  upon  the  alder  and  the  tassel  on  the  corn. 


M2372GO 


CONTESTS. 


DEDICATION  :   TO  MY  WIFE.  PAGE 

THE  BLOOM  WAS  ox  THE  ALDER  AND  THE  TASSEL  ON  THE  CORN 5 

NOVEL  I. 
THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH 7 

NOVEL  H. 
PETER  PEPPERTON'S  FOURTH  o'  JULY  TRIUMPH 22 

NOVEL  m. 
LUNY  LEN 34 

NOVEL  IV. 
HANDLED  GOODS 41 

NOVEL  V. 
AUNT  HETTY 51 

NOVEL  VI. 
MR.  BARDOLPH  BOTTLES 66 

NOVEL  VTI. 

ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW  . .  72 


vi  CONTENTS. 

NOVEL  Vm. 
OLD  SHACK 


NOVEL  IX. 
THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE  CITY  ......................................    80 

NOVEL  X. 
MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,  REFORMER  ...  ..............................  -    97 


NOVEL  XI. 
THE  WHARF-RAT 


NOVEL  XII. 
THE  FEMALE  CLERK  AT  WASHINGTON  ...............................  127 

NOVEL  XIII. 
THE  GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE  .......................................  138 

NOVEL  XIV. 
A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS  ............  ...............................  146 


PREFACE. 

THE  tales  of  love  and  labor  collected  in  this  little  volume  had 
their  origin  in  an  attempt  to  respond  to  a  long-felt  want  in  the 
pocketbook  of  their  author.  That  they  failed  to  fill  that  aching 
void- -the  vacuum  which  nature,  human  nature  abhors — was  not 
owing  so  much  to  a  lack  of  excellence  in  the  book  itself  as  to 
the  law  of  supply  and  demand,  which  is  about  the  only  law  vouch 
safed  our  American  author.  Lacking  any  other  law,  especially  one 
granting  an  international  copyright,  theft  augments  the  supply 
and  gluts  the  market  of  demand.  Eminently  respectable  publish 
ers — respectable  because  rich — and  a  pensive  public  have  been 
content,  the  one  to  enjoy  and  the  other  to  fatten  on  stolen  goods. 

A  number  of  earnest  fanatics  were  hanged  at  Chicago  for  hold 
ing  that  all  property  is  theft,  and  resisting  with  bombs  a  police 
with  pistols  that  joined  issue  with  them  on  this  proposition.  The 
majesty  of  the  law  was  maintained  under  the  gallows,  and  the 
axiom  established  that  all  property  is  held  under  a  sacred  right 
sanctioned  by  God  and  sustained  by  common  law  and  written 
constitutions,  save  and  except  that  form  of  human  industry  called 
a  book.  A  man  may  work  his  idea  into  a  sewing  machine,  for 
example,  and  the  courts  will  punish  by  imprisonment  any  anarchist 
or  communist  who  dares  appropriate  the  machine.  But  if  he  work 
his  idea  into  a  book,  it  is  a  common  possession,  and  may  be  appro 
priated  by  any  anarchist  disguised  as  a  publisher,  and  enjoyed  by 
the  public  without  compensation.  If  a  misguided  son  of  man 
approach  the  sewing-machine  for  the  purpose  of  taking  and  carrying 
off  the  same,  the  proprietor  may  use  bombs  in  its  defence,  and  pub 
lic  opinion,  that  is  law,  will  approve  of  the  defence.  This,  how 
ever,  does  n't  extend  to  the  author  of  a  book,  and  as  such  he  must 
submit  patiently  to  the  spoliation. 

For  nearly  a  century  the  authors  of  the  United  States  have 
been  knocking  in  a  feeble  manner  at  the  bronze  doors  of  Congress 


viii  PREFACE. 

in  search  of  a  remedy  for  this  wrong.  From  time  to  time  the 
doors  have  been  opened,  but  the  result  is  invariably  defeat.  This 
comes  mainly  from  the  fact  that  Congress  is  a  political  body,  with 
no  literary  or  scientific  s  de,  and  the  authors  are  scientific  or 
literary,  with  no  knowledge  of  or  taste  for  politics.  No  Congress 
man  ever  reads  a  book.  He  would  not  be  a  Congressman  if  he  did. 
No  scientific  or  literary  man  studies  or  cares  for  politics.  The 
result  is  that  the  two  august  bodies  ure  strangers  to  each  other ; 
and  the  condition  is  not  improved  by  an  intr  duction.  A  dis 
tinguished  Senator,  the  late  President  Lincoln's  prominent  rival  for 
a  nominat  on  at  Chica:o,  gave  our  authors  a  name  that  clings  to 
them  yet  about  Washington,  as  "them  literary  fellers';  "  and  the 
book  compilers  are  not  slow  to  retaliate  upon  the  Solons  as  "vile 
politicians." 

The  writer  of  this  sat  for  ten  years  in  the  reporters'  galleries  of 
Congress,  and  in  that  time  learned  to  know  the  body  of  so-called 
law  makers,  which  a  witty  correspondent  designated  as  "  the  dele 
gated  stupidity"  of  the  United  States.  Whether  this  is  correct  or 
not,  the  writer  saw  in  the  House  the  "cave  of  the  winds,''  and  in 
the  Senate  a  dead  "  fog  bank.''  which  had  long  since  ceased  to  be 
lifted  by  the  thunders  of  a  Webster  or  lit  by  the  lightning  of  a 
Calhoun 

This  observant  reporter  was  taught  that  Congress  never  legis 
lated  designedly  upon  any  subject  other  than  that  found  in  pro 
viding  \\  ays  and  means  to  carry  on  the  Government.  Left  to  itself, 
the  one  constitutional  duty  was  to  meet,  pass  the  appropriation 
bills,  and  adjourn. 

Lying  back  of  the  grave  body,  and  not  by  any  means  concealed, 
is  a  power  that  prompts  legislation  and  passes  laws.  This  third 
house,  and  master  of  both  houses,  is  the  lobby.  The  lobby  is  to 
Congress  what  a  bar  is  to  a  court.  It  is  composed  of  the  accredited 
agents  of  our  legislative  branch  of  the  Government,  and  is  a  neces 
sity.  Since  the  war  the  General  Government  has  entered  the  field 
of  private  enterprise,  and  under  pretext  of  encouraging  capital  and 
protecting  labor,  seeks  to  insure  a  profit  to  certain  moneyed  inter 
ests.  As  the  Government  has  no  means  of  its  own  to  pay  these 
bounties,  it  gains  its  end  in  that  direction  by  taxation.  That  is,  the 


PREFACE.  IX 

tax  is  so  adjusted  that  for  every  cent  collected  to  sustain  the 
Government,  three  cents  are  assessed  to  pay  the  pet  interests.  We 
rob  Peter  to  recompense  Paul,  and  as  Peter  represents  a  vast 
majority  of  consumers,  the  process  is  extremely  cheerful  to  all  con 
cerned. 

This  fetches  to  the  capital  vast  crowds  of  people  interested 
in  securing  this  bounty  from  the  Government.  Said  General 
Schenck,  chairman  of  the  Committee  on  Ways  and  Means,  when 
apologizing  for  his  late  appearance  at  a  breakfast  given  him  :  "  I 
was  routed  out  of  bed  by  an  anti-cow-kicker,  an<\  chased  in  here 
by  grindstones,  india-rubber  goods,  and  hoop-skirtb."  Every  pos 
sible  interest  and  business  is  represented  at  Washington  save 
that  of  labor  and  agriculture. 

Xow,  all  legislation  is  done  by  Congress  through  committees.  A 
member  introduces  a  bill  and  it  is  referred  to  its  appropriate  com 
mittee.  The  Lycurgus  sees  it  disappear  through  a  door  into  a 
room  where  the  committee  sits  twice  a  week  from  ten  A.M.  till 
twelve  noon.  He  may  follow  his  bill  to  this  secret  and  extremely 
irritable  body,  l>ut  he  seldom  does.  He  is  too  busy  for  that  His 
entire  time  from  the  rising  of  the  sun  to  the  setting  thereof  is 
given  to  attending  to  the  wants  of  his  constituents.  His  mails 
come  loaded  with  letters  demanding  attention  to  everything  on 
earth  but  the  purpose  for  which  he  was  elected.  If  he  neglects 
these  to  study  legislation,  he  is  doomed.  He  will  not  be  re-elected. 

The  parties  thus  interested  in  legislation  must  seek  the  accred 
ited  agents  of  Congress,  called  the  lobby,  to  attend  to  their  busi 
ness.  Those  selected  by  Congress  are  made  up  mainly  of  fast  men 
and  loose  women.  The  same  corps,  selected  for  the  same  purpose, 
about  any  legislative  body  of  Europe  is  composed  of  learned  and 
respectable  men.  Our  Congress  will  have  none  of  that.  "  Xous 
avons  change  tout  cela.'"  And  Congress  has  so  far  succeeded  in 
securing  its  agents  of  the  lobby,  that  it  is  ruin  co  the  character  of 
any  reputable  man  to  be  seen  in  their  midst.  Efforts  have  been 
made,  from  time  to  time,  to  purify  this  body,  but  ever  in  vain. 
The  representation  represents,  and  the  fountain  never  rises  above 
its  head  When  Richard  B.  Irwin  s;iid  to  the  Pacific  Mail  Com 
pany  that  if  it  would  employ  the  accredited  agent  of  Congress 


X  PPEFACE. 

called  the  lobby,  and  pay  it  a  million  of  dollars,  the  sought-for 
subsidy  would  be  obtained — and  so  it  was — Mr.  Irwin  was  cruelly 
abused;  but  no  one  paused  to  consider  the  condition  of  a  Congress 
that  demonstrated  the  truth  of  his  assertion. 

As  a  member  of  the  Authors'  League,  the  writer  of  this  under 
took  to  enlighten  the  book-makers  as  to  the  real  condition  at  the 
capital.  He  was  treated  with  lofty  contempt.  The  poets,  novel 
ists,  scientific  delvers,  and  other  bookworms  went  up  to  the  Capi 
tol  to  plead  the  justice  of  their  demand. 

There  is  nothing  that  exasperates  a  member  so  much  as  to  have 
his  time  occupied  by  a  consideration  of  the  merits  of  a  measure — 
unless  the  measure  is  political,  and  directly  or  indirectly  affects  his 
return  to  office.  The  bearer  of  such  meritorious  measure  not  po 
litical  is  a  bore.  The  member  shuts  and  double-locks  his  door. 
If  he  sees  his  enemy  on  the  street  he  incontinently  dives  down 
a  back  alley.  Getting  his  card  upon  the  floor,  he  hides  in  the 
cloak-room  and  blasphemes.  The  advocate  of  such  meritorious 
measure  is  a  crank  and  a  nuisance. 

The  lobby  understands  this  and  eschews  the  merit.  He  bases 
his  claim  on  its  p  litical  aspect,  which  means  immediate  good  to 
the  law-maker. 

The  maker  of  books  cannot  be  taught  any  of  this.  He  knows 
all  about  it.  His  conceit  is  only  equalled  by  his  profound  igno 
rance,  for  he  is  college-bred  and  literary  trained.  He  says  truly 
with  Southey: 

My  days  among  the  dead  are  passed, 

Around  me  I  behold, 
Where'er  these  casual  eyes  are  cast, 

The  mighty  minds  of  old. 

The  living  alone  are  dead  and  unknown  to  him.  The  great 
world  goes  roaring  on  around  him,  dimly  heard  and  dimly  seen 
through  the  loophole  of  his  book-lined  vault,  wherein  rest  his 
mighty  dead  of  a  half -forgotten  past.  Books  built  on  books  are 
of  no  good.  Yet  such  is  his  work.  The  departed  whose  bones  he 
worships  were  men  among  men.  He  is  like  the  artist  who  studies 
great  masters  and  sits  a  little  fellow  on  a  step-ladder,  copying,  in- 


PREFACE.  xi 

stead  of  facing  nature,  and  getting  his  inspiration  from  whence  the 
masters  won  their  immortality. 

How  little  science  and  literature  move  and  affect  humanity  one 
may  learn  from  a  few  facts.  These  facts  teach  us  that  all  the 
great  discoveries  and  inventions  that  subvert  the  law  of  the  ma 
terial  world  to  man's  use  were  made  mainly  by  ignorant  men  who 
stumbled  upon  them.  As  for  literature,  it  is  the  merest  trifle. 
Let  us  see  We  have  a  population  of  sixty  odd  millions  in  these 
United  States.  Of  these  it  is  a  liberal  estimate  to  say  that  three 
milli  ms  read  books.  Of  the  three  millions  the  larger  part  read 
love  stories,  mostly  trash.  Small  wonder  the  politicians  designate 
authors  as  ' '  literary  fellers  "  of  small  account.  Yet,  when  one  of 
these  puts  himself  between  the  covers  of  a  book,  and  secures  a  sale 
of  a  thousand  copies,  he  swells  in  his  own  estimation  to  an  object 
of  much  public  interest,  and  designs  a  monument. 

Their  latest  effort  before  Congress  was  simply  pitiable.  They 
appeared  at  Washington  and  gave  public  readings,  through  which 
to  raise  funds,  not  to  employ  the  lobby  or  subsidize  the  press, 
but  to  pay  their  board-bills.  But  for  James  Whitcomb  Eiley  and 
Mark  Twain,  with  their  grotesque  humor,  the  shows  would  have 
been  dismal  failures.  The  wives  and  daughters  of  a  few  mill 
ionaire  Senators  bought  tickets,  and  the  wealthy  people  of  Wash 
ington  yawned  dismally  in  their  seats  until  Whitcomb  Riley,  a  man 
of  genius,  who  got  his  inspiration  from  living  men  while  painting 
signs  for  country  stores,  came  to  the  rescue. 

In  the  committee-room  the  poor  fellows  met  their  masters,  the 
publishers  who  have  grown  fat  on  theft,  and  then  encountered 
their  terrible  foe,  the  sixty  thousand  printers  of  the  Typographi 
cal  Union.  Our  authors  dropped  into  a  mild  condition  that  lost 
all  the  indignation  against  unquestionable  iniquity.  A  compromise 
was  agreed  on  that,  like  all  compromises  with  sin.  strengthens  the 
evil.  Better  half  a  loaf  than  no  bread,  said  one,  with  an  eager 
concurrence  on  the  part  of  all.  Poor  fellows  !  There  was  not  one 
of  them,  save  Mark  Twain,  who  was  not  dependent  on  these  same 
thriving  publishers  for  their  daily  crust.  They  did  not  get  their 
half  loaf.  They  asked  for  bread  and  got  a  stone.  The  bill  pro 
vides  that  the  foreign  author  may  have  a  right  to  his  property 


*Ai  PREFACE. 

provided  the  American  pirate  shall  consent  to  the  enjoyment. 
That  is,  it  is  stipulated  that  if  within  a  given  time  the  foreign  au 
thor  shall  find  favor  with  an  American  publisher  to  reproduce  his 
hook,  his  right  shall  be  recognized  ;  but  failing  in  this  he  can  be 
plundered  as  of  old.  In  other  words,  the  right  is  made  dependent 
on  the  will  of  the  thieves,  and  they  can  make  such  terms  as  they 
please  ;  or  in  other  words,  a  legalized  fraud. 

What  poor  stuff  is  this!  And  yet  these  kings  of  thought  marched 
out  as  if  they  had  accomplished  a  great  victory. 

Strange  to  say,  that  through  all  this  contention,  nearly  a  cen 
tury  old,  there  exists  all  the  right  of  property  for  which  King 
Higginson  and  King  Ho  wells  and  other  potentates  of  the  pen  have 
so  earnestly  striven.  Some  twelve  years  since  Mr.  Lewis  Abrams,  of 
Washington,  a  thoughtful  man  and  a  hard  student,  came  to  the 
front  with  a  legal  opinion  on  the  subject  that  is  conclusive  as  to 
the  right  of  the  foreign  author  to  his  property  in  the  United 
States.  He  called  attention  to  the  fact  that  a  book  had  a  commer 
cial  side  to  it  other  than  its  scientific  or  literary  value.  This, 
under  the  common  law  of  trade,  since  recognized  by  t  eaties,  se 
cures  a  property  right  in  any  manufactured  article,  be  it  a  book  or 
book-muslin,  that  can  be  sold.  To  protect  this  a  trade  mark  is 
recognized,  and  all  the  civilized  world  has  resolved  that  the  trade 
mark  shall  be  held  sacred.  When,  therefore,  an  author  files  the 
title-page  of  his  forthcoming  woik  with  the  Librarian  of  Con 
gress,  he  gets  in  return  a  copyright  that  is  in  fact  a  trade-mark. 
Under  our  treaties,  the  highest  law  of  the  land,  this  trade-mark  is 
as  good  for  a  book  as  it  is  for  balbriggan  hose  or  a  peculiar  make  of 
Scotch  tweed.  AVhat  more  do  you  want,  oh  Higginson,  How- 
ells,  and  other  "  kings  of  thought" 

"  Who  wage  contention  with  their  time's  decay, 
And  of  the  past  are  all  that  will  not  pass  away  "  ? 

"A  race  of  shopkeepers  makes  a  nation  of  thieves/'  said  the 
gr  at  Napoleon;  but  even  a  nation  of  thieves  respect  the  trade 
mark. 

Poisrisr  PIATT, 

MAOO-CHEE,  OHIO,  March  29,  1888, 


THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH, 


NOVEL   I. 

THE  old  stone  tavern  known  through  generations  as  the  Indian 
Queen,  that  stands  on  a  turn  of  the  road  down  the  mountains  from 
Sherryville  to  M ,  of  the  Shenandoah  Valley,  enjoys  a  land 
scape  a  castle  might  be  proud  of.  That  this  is  the  Indian  Queen 
runs  on  tradition  and  general  consent,  for  the  old-fashioned  sign 
board  that  creaks  in  front  lost  long  since  the  work  of  art  that  pict 
ured  forth  the  name.  Nothing  remained  on  the  one  side  but  a 
dim  crown  of  feathers,  nearly  obliterated,  and  two  staring  eyes  on 
the  other,  that,  put  together  by  the  curious  observer,  failed  to 
make  up  that  imaginary  creature  known  to  tradition  and  dime 
novels  as  Her  Majesty  Queen  Pocahontas. 

Virginia's  little  romance  of  that  ilk  is  about  as  dim  as  the  sign 
board.  Pocahontas  did  live  and  was  the  daughter  of  a  chief. 
But  all  else  is  the  fringe-work  of  fancy,  that,  like  the  sign,  would 
have  long  since  faded  out  but  for  a  useful  purpose  the  romance 
serves,  and  that  is,  the  manner  in  which  our  loved  ancestors  had  of 
accounting  for — well,  say  brunettes  that  appeared  from  time  to 
time  among  the  noble  Virginians. 

To  return,  however,  to  my  story  :  The  view  from  the  rude 
porch  of  the  inn  is  exceedingly  beautiful,  for  it  contains  one  of  the 
loveliest  portions  of  that  lovely  valley.  The  green  meadows  and 
rich  fields,  with  groves  and  gleams  of  water,  dotted  by  white 
farm-houses  half  hid  in  orchards,  were  all  framed  in  by  moun 
tains,  the  summits  of  which  seemed  to  melt  into  the  blue  of  heaven, 
leaving  the  eye  in  doubt  as  to  where  the  rounded  rocky  or  wooded 
tops  ended  and  the  clouds  began.  The  sulphury  smoke  of  battle 
had  obscured  these  fields,  and  the  mountains  had  echoed  back  the 
mouthing  cannon  of  combatants,  but  at  the  time  our  little  romance 


;»{        I  l.T&K^OME   GRAVE   OF  THE  SHENAXDVAH. 


opens  no  harm  had  been  done  to  the  valley  itself.  Armies  had 
marched,  fought,  and  retreated  —  generally,  up  to  that  time,  the 
dear  old  flag  had  hurried  ingloriously  out  of  the  row  —  but  no  great 
injury  had  come  to  the  work  of  the  farmer  or  the  beauty  of 
nature. 

The  summer  sun  was  sinking  in  the  hazy  west,  with  distant 
rumblings  of  artillery  telling  of  a  far-off  combat,  as  a  girl,  some 
twenty  years  of  age,  sat  in  a  rocking-chair,  on  the  wooden  porch  of 
the  tavern,  rocking  softly  to  and  fro,  and  gazing  dreamily  upon  the 
view  before  her.  Her  appearance  was  such  as  to  attract  attention. 
In  dress,  bearing,  and  expression  there  was  a  refinement  that  in 
dicated  one  city  bred,  rather  than  of  rural  local  origin.  She  was 
exceedingly  attractive,  with  a  claim  to  beauty  that  came  under  the 
head  of  handsome  rather  that  pretty.  Her  face,  at  rest,  indicated 
more  force  of  character  than  that  which  ordinarily  falls  to  the 
sweeter  sex.  The  perfect  oval  ended  in  a  pronounced  chin,  while 
the  slight  aquiline  line  of  her  nose  made  that  chin  aggressive.  But 
for  the  full  red  lips  of  the  perfect  mouth,  and  large  dreamy  eyes, 
the  pale  face  would  have  been  too  severe  to  excite  other  that  a  feel 
ing  of  admiration. 

The  expression  depicted  from  time  to  time,  as  the  feelings 
changed,  had  a  wider  range  than  is  usual  to  such  a  cast  of  coun 
tenance.  As  her  eyes  wandered  over  the  beautiful  view  her  face 
was  one  to  admire.  When  a  little  three-year-old  daughter  of  the 
stone  tavern  toddled  to  her  and  rested  its  little  head  upon  her 
knee,  the  long  silken  fringes  of  her  tender  eyes  fell  upon  it  as  her 
slender  hands  stroked  its  curly  locks  —  and  her  face  was  one  to 
love.  Afterward,  when  she  gazed  at  the  brigade  of  Union  soldiers 
pitching  their  tents  on  the  meadows  below,  scorn  and  hate  gave 
her  a  face  to  fear. 

A  movement  below  made  In  r  start,  as  if  to  leave  her  chair. 
Then,  after  half  rising,  she  settled  back  and  began  again  the 
monotonous  rocking.  A  cavalcade  of  officers  was  riding  up  the 
road,  as  if  coming  to  the  Indian  Queen. 

At  the  head  of  this  little  escort  rode  a  stout,  middle-aged 
gentleman,  in  the  uniform  of  a  Brigaditr  General  of  the  Northern 
Army.  Mounted  on  a  superb  horse,  he  sat  with  the  ease  of  an  ex- 


THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH. 

perienced  rider,  his  high  rounded  shoulders  holding  a  grim,  res 
olute  head,  that  under  other  than  a  military  hat  would  have  been 
repulsive  in  its  severity.  There  was  a  face  not  to  be  trifled  with, 
as  the  historic  annals  of  war  and  diplomacy  have  put  to  record. 

Halting  in  front  of  the  tavern,  the  officers  dismounted,  and  as 
the  orderlies  led  the  horses  to  the  stable,  they  ascended  the  steps, 
and  gaining  the  porch  instinctively  lifted  their  hats  to  the  girl  be 
fore  them.  She  barely  recognized  the  salutation,  then  continued 
her  rocking,  as  if  their  politeness  and  presence  were  alike  in 
different  to  her. 

A  grim  change  in  the  General's  face  left  one  in  doubt  whether 
he  was  suffering  from  a  toothache  or  indulging  in  a  smile. 

On  the  landlord  making  his  appearance  the  chief  gave  his  or 
ders.  They  were  for  supper  for  himself  and  staff,  one  room  for 
the  night,  and  quarters  for  a  corporal's  guard.  While  the  supper 
was  being  prepared  the  General  sat  in  the  split-bottomed  arm-chair, 
near  our  heroine,  while  the  members  of  his  staff,  weary  of  a  long 
day's  ride,  stretched  them -elves  upon  the  sod  under  the  trees. 

"How  many  a  vanished  hour  and  day 
Have  sunlight  o'er  me  shed  " 

since  last  I  parted  from  that  gallant  band  of  good  fellows  a  loved 
General  held  together  during  the  four  years  of  a  terrible  conflict. 
I  can  see  them  now.  I  see  the  tall,  slender,  volatile  Chestnutt,  gay 
as  a  lark,  brave  as  a  lion.  Esterhaze,  quiet,  grave,  yet  ever  alert 
to  duty.  Comb,  slender  and  awkward,  but  possessed  of  the  keenest 
sense  of  humor,  as  ready  to  jest  under  fire  as  in  the  camp.  Then 
came  old  Grenville.  called  old  because  he  was  so  solemn.  It  would 
take  a  surgical  instrument  to  get  a  joke  in  his  head,  and  then  an 
other  to  get  it  out.  And  last,  but  not  least,  for  he  is  the  hero  of 
my  little  romance,  Bob  Ellersly,  young,  handsome,  and  liable  to 
love  and  debt. 

Two  of  these  met  viol°nt  deaths,  and  the  rest  are  scattered 
world-wide  apart.  I  send  them  greeting. 

"  I  say,  Bob/'  cried  Chestnutt  to  the  aide,  as  he  rested  his 
head  on  his  elbows  and  kicked  his  toes  into  the  grass,  "  rather 
handsome  girl  that  up  there.'' 


10  THE  LONE   GRAVE   OF  THE  SHENANDOAH. 

"The  old  man  seems  to  have  discovered  that,"  Bob  responded. 
' '  See  him  doing  the  sweet  on  her,  will  you  ?  " 

"Well,  he  is,"  Comb  chipped  in,  "  but  he  isn't  making  much 
headway,  I  gather,  from  the  expression  on  her  lovely  countenance. " 

The  General  was  doing  the  suave  polite,  for  which  he  was  fa 
mous,  and  getting  little  in  return  but  crisp  monosyllables. 

It  does  not  require  much  time  to  prepare  a  meal  in  Virginia. 
Ham  and  eggs,  with  hot  biscuits,  make  the  substantial,  while 
sticky,  indigestible  sueets,  called  preserves,  form  the  entrees.  The 
General  and  staff  were  soon  called  to  table,  and  ate  with  the  hearty 
relish  of  hungry  men.  After  the  supper  had  been  disposed  of  the 
General  called  his  aide,  Bob  Ellersly,  to  one  side  and  said  : 

"I  have  a  rather  pleasant  duty  for  you,  Bob." 

"All  right,  General,  the  pleasanter  the  better." 

"It  is  one,  Lieutenant,"  continued  the  commander,  "  of  ex 
treme  delicacy,  and  I  trust  to  your  tact  to  carry  it  to  a  successful 
issue.  Now,  don't  let  any  of  your  boyish  impulses  make  you  blun 
der.  You  see  that  young  lady  on  the  porch  ?  " 

"I  believe  I  noticed  her." 

"Well,  for  the  next  ten  da}Ts,  or  until  further  orders,  you 
must  not  permit  her  to  get  out  of  your  sight.  You  must  do  this 
delicately,  for  she  is  the  niece  of  the  most  prominent  and  im 
portant  loyalist  of  Baltimore.  It  will  not  do  to  offend  her,  for  the 
whole  affair  may  be  a  mistake  after  all." 

"What  is  the  affair,  General?" 

"  Simply  this  :  the  Secretary  of  War  writes  me  that  all  the  pa 
pers  concerning  the  coming  campaign  in  Virginia  were  stolen  from 
the  department  and  traced  to  Clara  Willis,  of  Baltimore  Miss 
Clara  has  since  disappeared,  but  there  is  every  reason  to  believe 
that  she  is  somewhere  in  the  Shenandoah  Valley  trying  to  com 
municate  with  the  enemy.  This  is  the  girl,  Bob,  I  am  satisfied. 
I  worried  enough  out  of  the  landlord  to  convince  me  I  am  right 
Put  a  guard  about  the  house  so  no  one  can  enter  or  leave  without 
your  permission,  and  keep  your  eye  on  her." 

"But,  General,  this  is  difficult.  If  I  am  not  to  make  her  a 
prisoner,  how  am  I  to  act  ?  " 

"  Make  love  to  her,  Bob,"  said  his  commander,  with  a  twinkle 


THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH.  11 

in  his  eye.  "  Sacrifice  yourself  on  the  altar  of  your  country.  She 
is  a  woman,  and  a  devilish  pretty  one,  and,  therefore,  may  be 
wooed  ;  she  is  a  woman  and,  therefore,  may  be  won."  So  saying 
the  Brigadier  ordered  horses,  and  Bob  heard  them  rattling  off  in 
the  moonlight,  leaving  him  to  execute  his  diplomatic  mission. 

Calling  Corporal  Bang,  Bob  directed  him  to  place  a  guard  in 
front  of  the  house,  and  another  in  the  rear,  with  orders  to  permit 
no  one  to  enter  or  leave,  man,  woman,  or  child,  without  his  (the 
Lieutenant's)  orders. 

"Do  you  know,  Corporal,  what  has  become  of  the  young  lady 
who  was  seated  on  the  porch  before  supper  ?  " 

"She  skooted  up-stairs,  Lieutenant,  and  every  swish  of  her  pet 
ticoats  had  a  secesh  cuss  in  it.  She  lijt  up  the  corner  room,  I  cal 
culate." 

"Very  well,  you  have  your  orders." 

"All  right,  Lieutenant." 

Bob  Ellersly  seated  himself  in  the  vacated  arm-chair  and 
smoked  his  briar-wood  pipe  in  the  moonlight,  revolving  over  and 
over  in  his  mind  the  strange  duty  imposed  upon  him.  He  was  in 
terested,  and  yet  did  not  like  the  business.  Young,  ardent,  and 
ambitious,  he  thought  of  his  comrades  riding  off  to  glory,  while 
he  remained  behind  to  circumvent  a  woman .  Bouncing  from  his 
chair,  he  walked  the  rough  boards  of  the  old  porch  impatiently. 
Suddenly  he  descended  the  steps  and  stood  under  the  trees,  gazing 
up  at  that  corner  of  the  room  occupied  by  the  enemy.  Country 
taverns  are  not  graced  with  curtains,  but  something  of  the  sort 
had  been  improvised  for  this  apartment,  and  he  could  only  see  a 
shadow  of  the  inmate,  passing  and  repassing,  as  if  she,  too,  was 
restless  and  impatient. 

As  he  stood  leaning  against  a  tree  in  the  moonlight  he  presented 
as  handsome  a  figure  as  one  would  care  to  see.  The  broad  shoul 
ders,  swung  over  slender  hips,  held  over  them  a  head  in  which 
youth  and  manhood  contended  for  the  mastery.  His  face  was  boy 
ish  vs  hen  at  rest,  but  when  animated  he  seemed  to  take  on  years 
in  the  way  of  expression  which,  added  to  his  soldierly  bearing,  im 
pressed  his  comrades  as  one  capable  of  any  duty.  Left  an  orphan 
at  an  early  age,  with  a  small  property,  on  which  he  had  been  edu- 


12  THE  [.ONE  GRAVE   OF 'THE  SHENANDOAH. 

cated,  he  stood  alone  in  the  world.  He  had  not,  he  said,  a  relation 
that  he  knew  of  on  earth.  "  So  much  the  better/'  grunted  cyni 
cal  Comb,  "if  you  have  poor  relations  you  fear  they  will  want  to 
borrow  your  money,  or  get  hung  ;  if  you  have  rich  ones  they  are 
sure  to  get  into  Congress,  or  the  penitentiary,  and  worry  the  life 
out  of  you.  Relations  are  nuisances." 

The  next  morning  Ellersly  informed  Bang  in  the  presence  of 
the  landlord  that  they  had  been  left  to  look  after  the  forwarding  of 
important  despatches  from  the  front,  and  with  an  orderly  rode  to 
Murrayville.  He  was  scarcely  out  of  sight  before  an  ancient  gig,  that 
wabbled  in  the  wheels  and  groaned  in  the  body,  as  if  afflicted  with 
combined  old  age  and  sciatica,  was  drawn  in  front  by  an  animated 
hat-rack  for  a  horse.  The  negro  driver  stopped  at  the  foot  of  the 
steps,  and  our  heroine,  fully  prepared  for  a  jaunt,  seated  herself  by 
the  colored  boy.  When  the  horse  was  turned  toward  the  road  the 
private  on  guard  brought  his  musket  down  before  the  horse's  nose 
and  arrested  the  concern. 

"What's  the  meaning  of  this?"  demanded  the  girl. 

"Can't  go,  that's  all." 

' '  Call  your  corporal ;  I  want  to  know  the  meaning  of  this  out 
rage." 

Corporal  Bang  stepped  to  the  front. 

"What  is  the  reason  for  this  detention?"  she  continued. 

"Them  as  gives  orders  has  reasons;  them  as  gets  orders  has 
bayonets,"  sententiously  responded  Bang. 

There  was  no  help  for  it.  With  flushed  cheeks  and  a  firm, 
set  mouth,  the  girl  descended  from  the  vehicle  and  entered  the 
house.  Every  step  was  a  protest.  The  ancient  gig  was  restored 
to  its  maison  de  sante  and  the  hat-rack  of  a  horse  to  its  stall.  At 
noon  Ellersly  returned,  and  learned  of  the  attempted  escape. 
After  dinner,  while  smoking  his  pipe,  the  suspected  girl  approached 
him. 

"  I  attempted  to  drive  out  this  morning,  sir,"  she  said  indig 
nantly,  "  and  was  arrested  by  your  men.  Am  I  to  understand 
that  I  am  a  prisoner  ?  " 

"  I  am  very  sorry,  madam,"  answered  the  aide,  avoiding  the 
question,  "very  sorry  so  rude  a  thing  was  done." 


THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHEXANDOAH.  13 

"  Don't  apologize,  sir.  We  know  your  miserable  Government 
makes  war  on  women.  You  are  only  a  hireling  executing  its 
brutal  orders.  Again  I  ask  you,  am  I  a  prisoner?" 

"  It  is  really  painful  to  know  that  you  entertain  such  an  idea," 
patiently  continued  the  officer.  "  These  men  execute  orders  so 
literally  that  mistakes  like  this  will  occur." 

"  I  am  not  a  prisoner,  then  ?  " 

"You  are  at  liberty,  I  assure  you,  to  go  where  and  when  you 
please.  To  prove  to  you,  however,  how  unjust  you  are  to  us  I  will 
add  that  you  shall  go  as  you  will  and  owing  to  the  unsettled  and 
dangerous  condition  the  country  is  in,  I  will  furnish  you  an  escort 
of  armed  men  to  see  that  you  go  in  safety. " 

"Mr.  Lieutenant,'"  she  said  with  scorn,  "when  I  need  your 
services,  I  will  ask  them." 

"Do  so,  madam,  and  you  will  find  me  ready  to  serve  you." 
And  so  they  parted. 

"  An  unpleasant  beginning  for  a  love  affair,"  murmured  Bob, 
resuming  his  pipe. 

For  the  next  twenty-four  hours  the  Lieutenant  saw  little  of  his 
suspect,  and  the  little  he  did  see  was  not  agreeable.  Meeting  her 
by  accident  on  the  stairs  she  not  only  gave  way,  but  gathered 
her  skirts  about  her,  as  if  she  feared  contamination  from  the 
touch. 

The  day  after,  however,  her  mood  changed.  She  received  him 
with  a  bewitching  smile,  holding  out  her  little  hand,  saying  : 

"  Mr. "  and  she  paused. 

"Ellersly,"  he  added,  lifting  his  cap. 

"  Mr.  Ellersly,  I  wish  to  apologize  for  my  rude  talk.  I  forgot 
that  you  were  an  officer  on  duty,  and  what  is  more,  I  forgot  that 
I  was  a  lady.  Pardon  me." 

"I  have  no  pardon  to  grant,  madam."  said  Bob.  gallantly. 
"  Reproof  is  sweeter  from  some  than  commendation  from  others. 
Now,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  '* 

"We  will  breakfast  together,"  she  said,  "and  then  I  will  tell 
you." 

At  breakfast  she  poured  out  his  muddy  coffee  of  beans  and 
chiccory.  and  was  so  very  amiable  that  Bob,  young  as  he  was,  could 


14     THE  LOXE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH. 

not  help  thinking  she  was  too  confoundedly  sweet,  and  he  became, 
in  consequence,  the  more  alert  and  suspicious. 

"  Now  I'll  tell  you,  Lieutenant/'  she  said  on  the  porch,  "I  am 
ashamed  to  confess  it,  but  I  have  some  poor  relations  in  these 
mountains  almost  starved  by  the  war." 

"  That  is  a  lie/' thought  Bob,  but  he  s.dd  nothing — only  smiled 
sweetly. 

"I  wish  to  communicate  with  and  help  them,"  she  continued, 
"  and  if  you  will  furnish  me  with  an  escort  I  will  make  the 
attempt." 

An  ambush,  thought  Bob  ;  but  he  smiled  all  the  more  and 
added  : 

"Why,  of  course  I  will.  I'll  do  better — I  will  be  your  escort 
myself.  Shall  we  go  immediately  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  there  is  no  need  of  such  haste  ;  to-morrow  will  do," 
and  they  dropped  into  conversation  as  natural  as  if  they  knew  each 
other  for  years.  Bob  was  shrewd,  but  inexperienced.  He  did  not 
observe  the  dangerous  thread  of  the  t;ilk.  While  dexterously 
avoiding  all  reference  to  herself  she  kept  on  that  most  fascinating 
subject  to  all  men,  when  guided  by  a  pretty  woman — himself.  It 
was  Othello  and  Desdemona  over  again.  Only  Desdemona  led  the 
conversation.  Ah,  me,  if  the  beguiling  sex  only  knew  the  full 
power  in  their  little  ears,  aided  by  deep,  earnest  eyes,  none  of  us 
would  be  safe.  Bob  talked  well,  at  times  eloquently,  with  a  golden 
thread  of  humor  running  through  all,  and  he  who  set  out  to  de 
ceive  through  love-making  went  to  his  bed  deep  in  love  with  the 
fair  charmer. 

The  day  after  the  expedition  was  attempted.  Alas  !  it  proved 
a  miserable  failure.  The  old  horse  pulled  them  slowly  to  the  sum 
mit  of  the  mountain,  and  then  descending  to  the  valley  beyond 
stumbled  at  every  step,  and  at  last  fell  down,  breaking  the  shaft, 
and  throwing  the  fair  emissary  on  his  phrenological  rump. 

When  a  horse  falls  he  takes  a  philosophical  view  of  the  situa 
tion  and  lies  still.  Old  Smooth  Tooth  lay  stretched  upon  the 
road,  whith  his  shoeless  hoofs  full  extended  and  his  eyes  half 
closed,  as  if  to  say,  "  This  is  the  end  ;  farewell,  vain  world  j  leave 
me  to  the  buzzards," 


THE  LONE  GRAVE   OF  THE  SHENANDOAH.  15 

Ellersly  lifted  his  fair  companion  from  the  embrace  of  the 
moist  anatomy.  She  got  up  laughing  merrily  over  the  mishap, 
and,  leaving  the  wreck  to  the  man,  the  two  walked  back. 

"  This  is  too  bad/'  said  Bob.  "  The  poor  relations  will  never 
get  relief  at  this  rate.  Look  here,  Miss  Clara  "—he  had  her  name 
— "  can  you  ride  ?  " 

"  Like  an  Arab/'  she  responded. 

"Good  ! ''  he  exclaimed.  "Xow,  if  I  can  find  a  saddle,  you 
shall  have  my  horse  Chancellor.  He  is  splendid.  I  will  ride  one 
of  the  orderly's  horses,  and  so  we  will  penetrate  every  recess  of  the 
mountains/' 

She  was  delighted  with  the  arrangement,  and  an  old-fashioned 
single-horned  side-saddle,  hard  as  the  rock  of  ages,  was  fished  out 
from  the  stables.  Bob  worked  long  and  laboriously  in  fashioning 
one  of  his  best  blankets  to  the  old  affair,  to  make  it  more 
presentable  as  well  as  easier,  and  the  rides  began. 

Chancellor,  when  first  mounted,  snorted,  reared,  and  lunged, 
as  if  indignant,  but  the  fair  girl  kept  her  seat  composedly  until  the 
steed  quieted  down,  and  then  patting  his  arched  neck  put  herself 
on  friendly  terms  with  the  noble  animal. 

Those  rides  were  long  and  frequent.  Both  enjoyed  them.  She 
was  sweetly  confidential  in  her  young  escort's  life  and  affairs,  and 
every  hour  the  delicious  chain  of  love  bound  the  poor  boy  nearer 
and  firmer  to  his  adoration.  Small  wonder.  The  y^ung  girl  was 
simply  superb  on  horseback.  The  close-fitting  riding  dress  seemed 
part  of  her  supple,  graceful,  engaging  form,  while  the  exercise  and 
excitement  brought  a  delicate,  shell-tinted  rosiness  to  her  cheeks, 
that  seemed  the  one  thing  necessary  to  make  her  pale  face  perfect. 
Bob  longed  to  avow  his  love,  but  youth  is  timid  when  the  precious 
treasure  may  be  jeopardized  by  the  avowa'.  He  was  blinded  by 
his  passion,  and  did  not  see  the  game  so  openly  played  by  the  little 
gambler.  She  was  a  true  daughter  of  the  South,  and  her  heart 
was  with  her  poor  brothers  marching  shoeless,  with  scant  ra'ment, 
poorly  armed,  sleeping  without  shelter,  and  dying  by  thousands  with 
desperate  bravery  for  their  cause.  To  have  that  in  her  possession 
that  was,  as  she  believed,  of  vital  importance  to  them,  made  her 
desperate.  For  such  a  cause  she  would  play  the  Judith,  and  had 


16  THE  LONE  GRAVE   OF  THE  SHENANDOAB. 

Bob  avowed  his  love,  she  was  resolved  to  accept,  let  the  conse 
quences  have  been  what  they  might  to  the  poor  lad. 

Oh  !  the  golden  glory  of  those  sunny  days.  They  took  on  a  rose 
ate  hue,  that  made  the  blue  summits  of  the  mountains  a  deeper 
blue,  as  if  to  bound  that  Eden  that  lies  about  each  life  in  the  gold 
en  glow  of  youth,  when  love  touches  the  sweet,  tender  existence, 
and  the  birds  sing,  and  the  flowers  bloom  with  voices  and  odors 
that  penetrate  the  very  soul,  never  again  to  pass  away.  The 
scene  fades,  the  birds  die,  and  the  flowers  perish,  oft  in  the  hard 
realities  of  life  the  blue  mountains  no  longer  frame  in  the  fairy 
paradise,  but  all  the  same  we  cling  to  it  through  existence,  as  our 
first  parents  clung  to  the  Garden  to  which  they  never  could  return. 

Shakespeare  tells  us  the  course  of  true  love  never  does  run 
smooth.  No,  indeed  ;  life's  ways  are  not  fitted  for  the  sweet  stream. 
For  a  little  while  it  murmurs  along  green  meadows,  and  then,  anon, 
it  falls  among  rocks  and  rough  ways,  and  oftentimes  is  dashed  over 
precipices  to  be  dissipated  in  thin  mist,  over  which  arches  the  rain 
bow,  not,  alas  !  of  hope,  but  memory. 

There  were  some  little  tricks  the  lovely  girl  indulged  in  that 
exasperated  her  lover,  who,  although  blinded  by  his  passion,  had 
not  lost  sight  of  his  duty.  One  of  these  was  to  stop  at  some 
mountain  hut,  and  persist  in  dismounting  and  entering  the  hovel. 
Bob  dismounted  also,  and  would  help  her  to  the  ground  and  ac 
company  her  to  the  interior.  He  kept  his  eyes  and  ears  alert, 
and  believed  that  he  baffled  any  designs  in  this  direction. 

Another  fancy  indulged  in  was  to  banter  the  Lieutenant  to  a 
race  and  dart  off  on  Chancellor,  at  the  best  of  his  running  pace, 
and  Bob,  on  his  Government  horse,  would  follow  lumbering  after, 
scarce  keeping  her  in  sight,  until  it  suited  the  girl  to  check  up. 
Bob  remonstrated  in  vain,  and  all  he  could  do  was  to  direct  the 
orderly  to  keep  a  sharp  lookout  on  either  side  of  the  road  for  any 
thing  the  girl  might  drop. 

One  day  Corporal  Bang,  who  happened  to  be  the  escort,  handed 
the  Lieutenant  a  letter,  tied  to  a  stone,  that  he  had  picked  up 
from  a  gully  after  one  of  those  races. 

"  Got  a  reminder  through  my  chappo,  Lieutenant,  when  I 
picked  that  up/'  and  he  showed  u  hole  in  his  hut. 


THE  LONE  GRAVE   OF  THE  SHENANDOAH.  IT 

Ellersly  looked  longingly  at  the  missive.  It  was  directed  to  a 
well-known  guerilla  of  the  mountains.  Bob  would  have  given  a 
good  deal  to  know  its  contents.  But  he  quietly  handed  it,  without 
a  word,  to  the  girl.  Her  face  flushed,  and  somewhat  embarrassed 
she  hurried  to  her  room.  In  a  few  minutes,  however,  she  returned, 
letter  in  hand,  with  her  cheeks  yet  holding  the  flush  of  her  ex 
citement. 

"Lieutenant  Ellersly,"  she  asked,  in  an  even,  steady  tone, 
that  was  forced,  "  why  did  you  not  open  this  letter  ?  " 

"  Open  your  letter?"  he  asked  in  turn. 

"  Yes,  open  my  letter.  You  are  not  doing  your  duty  to  your 
Government." 

"  Miss  Clara,"  said  the  boy  proudly,  "  I  tendered  my  life  to 
my  country.  I  did  not  include  in  that  my  honor.  When  I  am 
sunk  so  low  as  to  steal,  I  cease  to  be  worthy  of  my  commission." 

Thegi;!  tore  open  the  letter.  "  Then  ! "  she  cried,  "  learn 
who  I  am,  and  what  I  am  trying  to  do." 

Ho  tjok  the  letter  and  deliberately  tore  it  into  fragments, 
throwing  the  bits  to  the  wind  from  the  porch.  "  Miss  Clara,"  he 
exclaimed  excitedly,  "  I  know  all  I  want  to  know  of  you.  You 
are  doing  your  duty,  as  you  see  it,  like  a  brave  hearted  woman, 
for  your  side ;  leave  me  to  do  mine,  as  a  gentleman,  for  mine." 

She  looked  at  him  earnestly,  half  in  surprise  and  half  in  ten 
derness,  and  said  in  an  undertone,  as  if  speaking  to  herself,  "  My 
task  grows  harder  than  I  thought  for."  Then  she  added,  offering 
her  hand,  "  Let  us  be  as  kind  to  each  other  as  we  can." 

The  day  after  this  strange  interview  she  insisted  upon  their 
daily  ride,  although  the  morn  opened  with  a  thunder-storm,  arid  the 
rain  came  down  at  intervals  in  torrents.  Ellersly  remonstrated, 
but  she  laughed,  saying,  "  We  are  soldiers,  you  know,  and  must 
not  be  cowed  by  a  little  rain." 

They  started,  followed  by  Corporal  Bang,  and  after  an  hour's 
riding  gained  the  summit  of  the  mountain,  along  which  the  road 
ran  for  a  mile  or  more  comparatively  level,  and  then  she  cried  : 
"Now  for  my  last  race,"  and  started  on  the  run.  Bob  followed 
as  well  as  he  could,  and  while  lumbering  along,  the  girl  rapidly 
gaining  upon  him.  he  remembered  that  at  the  end  of  a  mile  the 


18      THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH. 

road  sloped  down  gradually  to  the  river,  and  he  also  remembered 
a  gully,  along  which  ran  a  path  dangerous  for  a  horse,  but  that 
cut  off  half  the  distance  to  the  point  where  the  main  road  touched 
the  stream.  Instinctively  he  plunged  down  the  deep  declivity. 
Fortunately  his  horse,  though  slow,  was  sure-footed,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  he  gained  the  bank.  He  gained  this  just  in  time  to  see 
his  fair  fugitive  enter  a  light  boat  and  push  into  the  stream.  He 
was  below  the  point  she  debarked,  and  saw  before  she  could  get 
hold  of  the  oars  that  the  boat,  caught  in  the  swift  stream,  was  float 
ing  down  to  where  a  large  tree,  nearly  level  with  the  water,  leaned 
over  the  stream.  She  would  pass  under  this,  and  running  out  he 
swung  down,  catching  a  limb  with  his  knee,  and  caught  the  skiff 
with  his  right  hand.  At  that  instant  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle 
rung  out  from  the  opposite  shore,  and  Bob  fell  wounded  into  the 
boat. 

His  weight  nearly  upset  the  frail  craft,  but  it  righted,  whirled 
around,  and  the  next  instant  the  girl  pulled  it  to  the  shore.  Leaping 
to  the  bank  she  beached  the  boat  half  its  length,  and  then  reaching 
to  him  said  : 

"  Are  you  much  hurt  ?  " 

"  I  believe  so/'  he  answered,  as,  half  crawling,  he  worked  his 
way  out  and  fell  upon  the  ground.  A  second  shot  from  the  same 
quarter  struck  the  ground  within  an  inch  of  his  body. 

"  The  cowardly  miscreant,"  she  said,  throwing  herself  upon  him. 
"  If  he  kills  you,  he  must  kill  me." 

Poor  Bob  gave  a  grateful  look  and  a  weak  smile  in  return  for 
this  act  of  devotion.  At  that  instant  the  clatter  of  a  horse's  hoofs 
were  heard  upon  the  pike.  Corporal  Bang  appeared.  Taking  in 
the  situation  at  a  glance,  he  dismounted,  pushed  the  girl  one 
side,  and  picking  up  Ellersly  as  he  would  a  child,  carried  him 
round  the  bend  of  the  road,  that  made  a  shelter  from  further  shots. 
Placing  the  Lieutenant  timidly  upon  the  grass  he  asked  : 

"Are  you  hit  bad,  Lieutenant  ?  " 

"  Bad  enough,  Corporal,  he  gasped,  and  then  added,  "water." 

Clara  started  hurriedly  to  the  river.  As  she  appoached  the 
brink  she  took  the  beautiful  little  leather  sack  Bob  had  so  often 
eyed  suspiciously  from  her  belt,  opened  it,  drew  out  a  package  of 


THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH.      19 

papers,  threw  them  into  the  stream,  and  then,  stooping,  filled  the 
sack  with  water.  When  she  returned  Bang  was  cutting  the  blouse 
from  the  boy's  shoulder,  exhibiting  a  wound  not  larger  than  a 
pea,  from  which  the  blood  spurted  like  a  fountain.  At  the  sight 
the  girl  nearly  fainted,  but  rallying,  administered  the  draught  to 
his  eager  lips. 

Again  the  girl  hurried  away.  Throwing  off  her  riding-dress 
she  took  her  linen  underskirt,  tore  it  into  strips,  and,  without 
waiting  to  put  on  her  dress,  handed  them  to  Bang,  and  then  as 
sisted  him  in  binding  up  the  wound.  She  presented  a  strange 
sight  to  the  two  men  in  her  short  skirt,  for  the  collar  and  linen 
cover  were  displaced,  and  the  white  column  of  neck  and  snowy 
precipice  of  shoulder  were  exposed.  She  did  not  seem  to  be  aware 
of  her  exposure,  and  started,  blushing  crimson,  when  Bang  said  : 

"Now,  Miss,  git  on  your  toggery  and  sit  here  while  I  go  for  an 
ambulance.  Give  him  a  sip  of  this  times  along/'  he  continued, 
handing  her  his  canteen  that  seemed  full  of  commissary  whiskey. 
Catching  Chancellor,  as  the  best  horse  of  the  three,  he  mounted, 
without  waiting  to  change  saddles,  and  rode  off  at  a  gallop. 

The  girl,  once  more  in  her  riding-habit,  seated  herself,  and 
putting  her  arms  about  the  wounded  man  drew  his  head  upon  her 
shoulder,  like  a  little  mother,  all  care  and  tenderness.  The  storm 
had  passed,  the  sun  came  out  above  the  mountains,  warm  and 
bright,  and  the  mocking-bird,  in  the  cedars  near,  poured  out  its 
flood  of  joyous  melody.  The  poor  boy's  passion  found  utterance 
at  last,  and  in  words  made  eloquent  by  gasps  and  pauses,  he  told 
his  love.  She  listened  in  silence,  responding  only  in  tighter  grasps 
and  sobs  she  could  not  repress. 

Her  heart,  in  a  strange  agony  of  grief,  was  communing  with  it 
self.  She  found  in  this  sad  event  a  revelation  and  a  revolution  in 
one.  How  different  was  this  declaration  from  the  ones  he  had 
courted  and  intended  playing  upon.  And  up  to  the  new-found 
love  in  her  heart  came  the  cry,  "  You  have  murdered  him." 

A  long  silence  followed,  and  Bob,  feeling  the  hot  tears  falling 
on  his  brow,  tried  to  smother  down  the  groans  the  fierce  pain 
wrung  from  him,  and  looked  up  with  an  expression  of  loving 
tenderness  no  words  could  express.  She  saw  his  increased  pale- 


20  THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH. 

ness,  heard  his  shortened  breathings,  and  clasping  him  to  her,  she 
said : 

"  Oh  !  Mr.  Ellersly— oh  !  Bob,  don't  die.     It  is  killing  me." 

Vain  appeal  !  Death's  higher  claim  was  closing  in  upon  his 
heart.  He  gave  one  more  look,  shut  his  eyes,  a  shudder  quivered 
through  his  frame,  then  all  was  still. 

The  sun  glimmered  brightly  on  the  wet  laurel  leaves,  the 
mocking-bird  sang  in  the  cedar  near,  and  the  great  world  rolled  on 
in  endless  life,  as  it  ever  does,  regardless  of  the  comedies  and 
tragedies  we  mortals  enact. 

The  driver  and  escort  of  the  ambulance,  hurrying  down  the 
road,  heard  as  they  turned  the  bend  only  the  low  wail  of  a  broken 
hearted  woman.  For  once  a  funeral  procession  had  only  its  real 
mourners,  for  Bang,  as  brave  a  man  as  ever  stood  unmoved  under 
fire,  wept  as  a  child. 

Twenty  years  after,  business  called  me  to  this  part  of  the  Shen- 
andoah  Valley,  and  I  not  only  breakfasted  at  the  old  stone  inn,  but 
I  visited  the  rude  burying-ground  to  look  on  Bob  Ellersly's  last 
resting-place.  As  I  entered  I  saw  saw  a  carriage  at  the  old  gateway 
with  a  colored  driver  in  livery,  and  inside  I  met  a  slender  gray- 
haired  woman  coming  from  the  graves.  I  caught  only  a  glimpse  of 
a  pale,  hollow-cheeked  mourner,  as  she  passed  me. 

I  found  the  sexton  busy  digging  a  grave  for  a  new  occupant, 
and  asking  him  to  show  me  that  of  the  Union  officer  he  clambered 
out  and  led  the  way.  To  my  surprise  I  was  shown  a  handsome 
monument  of  marble,  consisting  of  a  pedestal  and  broken  column. 
I  was  the  more  amazed  to  find  it  garnished  with  rare  flowers,  and 
inscribed  on  the  base  I  read  : 

SACKED  TO  THE  MEMORY 

OF  ROBERT  ELLERSLY,  IT.  S.  A.,  WHO  FELL 

FIGHTING  FOR  His  FLAG  AND  COUNTRY 

HTH  OF  AUGUST,  1862. 

"  Why,  who  erected  this  monument  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Thar's  whar  you  git  me/'  responded  the  sexton,"  for  I  don't 
know.  It  come  up  from  Baltimore  ready  made  and  we  was  ordered 
to  put  it  up.  That's  all." 


THE  LONE  GRAVE  OF  THE  SHENANDOAH.  21 

"  Well,  who  strewed  these  flowers  ?  " 

"  Same  as  afore— don't  know.  Every  Decoration  Day,  as  they 
calls  ife,  that  female  critter  turns  up,  strews,  an'  cries,  an'  then 
vamooses.  An'  I  must  say,  cries  as  much  now  as  at  fust." 

For  fear  my  readers  will  think  me  guilty  of  a  wild  exaggeration, 
let  me  call  their  attention  to  the  fact  that  a  woman  will  carry  a 
dead  lov^r  in  her  heart  for  twenty  years,  when  she  is  sure  to  quarrel 
with  a  live  one  within  six  months. 


PETER  PEPPERTONJS  FOURTH  0'  JULY  TRIUMPH. 

NOVEL  II. 

THE  Fourth  o'  July  is  a  day  set  apart  by  the  citizens  of  this 
blessed  country  on  which  to  glorify  themselves  and  mutilate  their 
offspring.  While  the  parents  exalt  their  horn,  in  more  senses 
than  one,  and  declare,  one  unto  the  other,  with  much  vociferation, 
that  we  are  the  bravest,  smartest,  and  highest- toned  people  on  the 
face  of  the  earth,  with  the  best  government  under  the  sun,  their 
male  offspring  of  tender  age,  armed  with  Chinese  crackers,  toy 
cannon  and  pistols,  make  the  day  hideous,  and  in  their  patriotic 
excitement  burn  out  their  dear  eyes,  blow  off  their  sweet  noses, 
and  in  many  instances  climb  the  golden  stair  in  a  very  hasty  and 
unseemly  manner. 

Were  these  accidents  confined  to  the  little  actors,  we  might  de 
plore  their  mutilations  and  early  deaths,  but  we  would  be  comforted 
with  the  thought  that  the  tender  patriots  had  themselves  to  blame, 
if  any  blame  attaches  to  the  patriotic  custom.  But,  unfortunately, 
many  consequences  occur  beyond  the  range  of  youthful  exuberance. 
Frightened  horses  dash  off  to  utter  destruction  with  patriarchs  on 
wheels.  Women,  in  holiday  attire,  have  found  themselves  in  flames 
as  well  and  no  fire  escape  available,  while  cities  have  been  burned 
and  millions  of  property  destroyed,  all  for  the  gratification,  in  a 
barbarous  way,  of  young  America. 

Any  attempt  at  a  mitigation  of  the  nuisance  is  met  with  oppo 
sition  from  the  paren's  themselves,  who  claim  that  it  is  well  to 
have  patriotism  developed  in  the  children.  But  why  should  it 
take  suclra  wild  form  as  Chinese  crackers  and  horse-pistols  ?  Why 
not  set  the  day  apart  as  one  devoted  to  a  general  breaking  of  win 
dow-panes?  Let  it  be  promulgated,  as  the  law,  that  on  the  great 
Fourth  every  kid  in  the  land,  to  illustrate  his  noisy  patriotism, 
shall  smash  with  pebbles  all  the  windows  in  sight.  This  would  be 


PETER  PEPPERTOX'S  FOURTH  C'  JULY  TRIUMPH.     23 

less  dangerous  and  offensive  than  the  powder  business,  and  quite 
as  sensible. 

I  never  could  comprehend  why,  in  this  patriotic  demonstration, 
we  should  pattern  after  the  Chinese  and  have  it  go  off  in  loud, 
disagreeable  noise  and  foul  odors.  Among  savage  nations  it  is 
common  to  become  a  nuisance  while  rejoicing,  but  civilized  races 
take  their  joy  and  exhibit  their  rejoicing  in  a  civilized  way.  Pro 
cessions  with  banners  and  sweet  music,  festivals,  in  which  wives 
and  children  take  part,  occupy  the  day,  while  at  night  artistic  dis 
plays  of  fireworks  please  the  multitude.  The  child  that,  on  such 
occasions,  should  bang  off  a  pistol  or  rack  the  nerves  with  that 
barbarous  combination  of  red  paper  and  powder,  called  a  Chinese 
cracker,  would  be  seized  and  thrashed  on  sight.  The  little  fiend 
would  find  it  unpleasant  for  days  after  to  hinge  on  its  centre,  so  as 
to  come  to  a  sitting  position. 

Every  Fourth  o'  July  gives  me  a  realizing  appreciation  of 
Lamb's  humor,  to  be  found  in  the  question  he  propounded  for  a 
debating  society,  to  wit :  "  Was  Herod  as  bad  a  character  as  history 
represents?"  I  turn  then  to  Hood's  letter  from  the  bachelor 
brother,  who,  in  view  of  the  prophesied  earthquake,  was  written 
to  by  his  sister  in  the  country,  proposing  to  put  her  children  under 
his  care  at  London.  The  poor  man  answered  :  "  Dear  sister,  send 
up  the  earthquake,  and  keep  the  children.'' 

There  is  but  one  celebration  of  the  Fourth  I  treasure  in  memory, 
and  that  because  of  the  ludicrous  incidents  that  survive  the  recol 
lection  of  the  noise. 

I  was  a  law  student  under  my  illustrious  father,  who  had  re 
tired  from  the  profession  he  adorned  to  a  quiet  farm -life  in  the 
valley  of  the  Mac-o-chee.  My  brother  student  was  Tom  Gallagher, 
and  together  we  delved  in  those  beastly  commentaries  known  to  the 
world  as  Blackstone.  As  all  science  is  based  on  terms  and  a  supposed 
reason  for  them,  Blackstone  is  invaluable  to  the  dull  fellows,  who 
accept  his  absurd  definitions  without  being  able  to  detect  their  ab 
surdity,  and  take  sound  for  sense. 

At  the  time  I  write  of  law  was  regarded  as  a  science  and  treated 
as  such.  The  bar  was  composed  of  men  who  came  to  the  practice 
from  honest  toil,  who  split  rails  and  ploughed  the  ground  for  means 


24     PETER  PEPPERTOWS   FOURTH  <7  JULY  TRIUMPH. 

on  which  to  secure  enough  education  to  act  as  schoolmasters,  and 
who  then  taught  in  the  winter  so  as  to  be  able  to  study  for  tluir 
profession  in  the  summer.  Hard-handed,  knotty-headed  fellows, 
they  made  our  judges,  members  of  Congress  andleadersof  the  peo 
ple,  and  were  generally  as  earnest  and  solemn  as  mules. 

We  had  debating  societies  in  those  days,  and  one  night  of  every 
week  in  the  winter  the  neighbors  would  gather  in  the  country 
school  house,  dimly  lit  with  tallow  dips,  and  hear  great  orators 
discuss  such  grave  questions  as  to  which  caused  the*  most  evil  to 
humanity,  war  or  intemperance  ;  or  whether  Caesar  or  St.  Paul 
was  the  greater  man,  or  any  kindred  question  capable  of  presenting 
two  sides.  The  subject  chosen  a  week  in  advance,  the  orators 
selected,  and  the  advocates  designated  to  think  aloud  on  their  legs 
came  around  with  authorities,  and  fairly  lifted  the  roof  with  their 
eloquent  utterances.  These  were  selected  for  either  side  by  the 
president  of  the  society,  who  had  to  decide  at  the  end  of  the  debate 
which  carried  off  the  tr'umph.  I  observed  that  each  orator  suc 
ceeded  in  convincing  himself,  whether  he  captured  the  audience 
or  not,  and  it  was  no  uncommon  circumstance  for  the  eloquent  sons 
of  thunder  to  appeal,  after  adjournment,  to  their  muscle,  and  treat 
the  valley  to  sundry  darkened  eyes  and  bloody  noses. 

For  the  position  of  orator  on  the  Fourth  I  am  attempting  to 
chronicle,  we  were  all  candidates. .  The  committee  of  citizens 
chosen  to  arrange  the  coming  celebration  of  vociferous  patriotism, 
after  due  deliberation,  gave  the  place  to  one  Andrew  Jackson 
Fossett.  Xow,  Andrew  J.  was  a  young  man  lately  admitted  to 
the  bar,  of  a  consumptive  make,  who  ran  mainly  to  voice.  Set  on 
end  at  any  time,  he  had  only  to  open  his  large  mouth  to  pour  out 
a  stream  of  sound  that  would  discount  a  steam- whistle  and  put  a 
saw-mill  to  the  blush.  He  possessed  a  vocabulary  of  long  words 
that  fairly  dazed  his  audience. 

There  was  something  more  in  this  contest  for  place  than  a 
mere  exhibit  of  patriotic  thunder.  The  valley  possessed  a  lovely 
little  country  girl,  who  for  a  brief  period  of  her  existence  answered 
to  the  name  of  Pop  Sloan.  Of  medium  height,  slender  as  a 
sylph,  she  had  the  bloom  of  youth  grafted  on  a  delicacy  of  make 
rare  to  the  fields  of  our  pastoral  regions.  She  was  as  pretty,  to 


PETER  PEPPERTON'S  FOURTH  O'  JULY  TRIUMPH.     25 

use  a  country  expression,  "  as  a  painted  wagon,"  or  to  put  it  stronger, 
as  "&  Missouri  mule." 

To  make  her  attractions,  if  possible,  stronger,  she  was  the  sole 
heiress  to  all  old  Sloan's  possessions.  The  citizen  thus  designated 
was  a  man  of  various  occupations.  He  kept  tavern  and  a  thorough 
bred  of  Connestogy  origin.  He  was  postmaster  and  auctioneer  ; 
but  Jiis  great  claim  to  distinction  came  in  on  the  fact  that  he  was 
the  paternal  author  of  the  divine  Pop — short  for  Polly,  and  a  vil 
lainous  corruption  of  Mary. 

The  venerable  and  many-sided  Sloan  appreciated  his  possession. 
He  knew  that  Pop,  gotten  up  regardless,  and  waiting  on  the  table, 
active,  smiling,  and  amiable,  blinded  his  guests  to  the  weak  coffee, 
strong  butter,  heavy  biscuits,  and  rancid  bacon,  for  which  they  had 
to  pay  in  hard  cash  and  a  harder  indigestion. 

He  countenanced  all  of  Pop's  many  admirers,  careful  to  favor 
no  one,  as  he  sought  the  custom  of  all.  "  Yell  have  to  git  up 
mighty  early  in  the  mommy  he  was  wont  to  say,  "to  catch  my 
Pop,  and  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  gin  any  fellow  a  lift — for  tamt  fair." 

Among  these  suitors  were  two  who  seemed  to  be  favored  more 
than  the  others  by  Pop  herself.  One  was  the  oratorical  limb  of 
the  law,  the  young  man  of  the  wonderful  vocal  organs,  Andrew 
Jackson  Fossett,  Esq.,  and  the  other  a  country  youth  answering 
to  the  name  of  Peter  Pepperton.  Peter,  or,  as  he  was  generally 
called,  Pete,  was  a  tall,  stout,  ruddy-cheeked  fellow,  well  known 
and  popular  for  his  &ense  of  humor  and  rough,  but  good-natured 
power  of  retort.  Pete  was  one  of  our  debating  orators,  and  when 
he  rose  to  speak  a  ripple  of  laughter  would  run  over  the  audience 
in  reponse  to  the  broad  grin  with  which  he  began  his  "  discourse." 
And  many  were  the  laughs  that  followed  at  his  quaint,  humorous 
way  of  treating  the  arguments  offered  by  his  opponents. 

I  became  acquainted  with  this  love  affair  at  an  early  day  and 
in  a  queer  manner.  I  met  Pete  in  the  woods  one  afternoon  when 
he  was  felling  timber.  Inviting  me  to  sit  beside  him  on  a  stump 
he  gave  me  his  confidence. 

"I  want  that  gal,  Donk."  for  that  was  the  twist  he  gave  my 
unfortunate  name,  "  and  I'm  going  to  git  her  or  break  a  trace — 
and  if  I  don'.t  I'm  going  to  git  up  and  git  myself." 


26     PETER  PEPPERTOWS  FOURTH  O'  JULY  TRIUMPH. 

(<  What  do  you  mean,  Pete  ?  " 

"  I  mean  to  pull  out  o'  this  neck  o'  woods,  and  go  to  San  Jo." 

And  the  poor  fellow's  face  took  on  a  rueful  look,  so  foreign  to 
it  that  he  seemed  another  man. 

"Well,  how  are  you  getting  on  in  your  git,  Pete?  " 

"  There's  where  you  git  me.  Derned  if  I  know.  Sometimes 
she's  sweet  on  me,  and  then  agin  she  ain't.  Derned  if  I  don't 
think  she's  more  in  the  breechin'  than  the  collar,  and  all  on  account 
of  that  ornary  cuss  Andy  Fossett.  You  see  he  sorter  outshines 
me.  He's  picking  up  lots  of  money  at  Tountin,  and  bucks  round 
in  store  clothes  all  the  time.  I  ain't  got  'em  only  for  Sunday,  and 
then  I  ain't  used  to  'em.  He  is.  Then  he  comes  down  on  Sunday, 
my  day,  in  a  spanking  rig,  and  takes  her  out  a-riding,  and  the  Lord 
alone  knows  what's  happening  in  them  rides/'  and  a  vexed  expres 
sion  came  over  the  poor  fellow's  face,  from  which  the  perspiration 
fairly  rolled. 

"  Why,  Pete,  you  can  have  my  rig  any  time  you  want  it." 

"  Thank  you,  Donk  ;  but  she'd  know  it  wasn't  mine,  and  then 
I  wouldn't  fit  the  harness.  I  mean,"  he  continued,  seeing  my 
puzzled  look,  "  that  the  thing  wouldn't  hitch  harmonious.  You 
see  them  oxen  ?  Well,  you  go  to  'em  and  speak  gently  like,  as  you 
would  to  a  hoss,  and  they  won't  move.  But  let  me  take  the  gad 
and  fling  it  over  'em,  with  an  oath  or  two,  and  they'll  bend  to  it 
unanimous.  See  ?  " 

"I  think  so." 

"  Now  that  ornary  son  o'  Satan  has  taken  to  writin'  her  letters 
• — longest  sort,  and  full  of  honey.  She  reads  'em  to  me.  I  thought 
T.'d  try  it  on,  too,  and  I  got  a  book  from  Miller's  store  that  was  just 
the  thing.  Here  it  is." 

He  took  from  his  coat-pocket,  hanging  on  a  sapling,  a  copy  of 
the  "  Complete  Letter- Writer,"  and  opening  on  page  18  showed 
me  a  model  of  a  letter  from  a  young  man  to  a  young  lady,  making 
proposal  of  marriage.  It  began,  ''Kespected  Miss,"  and  was  in 
every  respect  a  cast-iron  model. 

"Well,"  continued  Pete,  "I  copied  that  out  in  my  best  hand- 
write,  on  pink  paper,  and  carried  it  to  her  myself.  Just  as  I  was 
going  to  hand  it  over,  skin  my  buttons  if  I  didn't  see  that  identi- 


PETER  PEPPERTOXS  FOURTH  O'  JULY  TRIUMPH.      27 

cal  book  on  the  table.  I  just  husked  my  letter,  quick  as  a  shake 
of  a  sheep's  tail.  She  asked  me  what  I  had  there,  and  I  said, 
oh,  nothing  but  some  verses  for  her — but  I  guessed  Andy  Fos- 
sett  was  a-filling  the  demand  in  that  line.  She  gin  a  little  scorn 
ful  laugh,  like,  and  said  Andy  was  a  beautiful  writer — cuss 
him!" 

"She  said  cuss  him?" 

"Oh  !  dern  it,  no,  I  thought  it.  Xow,  Donk,  I  want  you  to 
help  me.*' 

"  With  all  my  heart,  Pete.  Shall  I  make  love  for  you  to  the 
girl?" 

"  Thunder  !  no.  You  would  put  in  pounds  for  yourself  for 
every  ounce  you  gave  me.  I'll  tell  you  how.  Folks  say,  Donk, 
you  have  more  laming  than  common- sense.  That's  a  lie,  of 
course.  How  can  a  man  have  laming  without  sense?  I  want 
you  to  write  me  a  bully  love-letter,  and  I'll  copy  it.  You  know 
how  to  do  it.  You  can  do  anything  but  make  yourself  useful, 
and  you're  right  about  that.  Ef  a  monkey  could  be  taught  to 
hoe  he  wouldn't  be  a  show  in  a  red  coat.  You  write  me  that 
letter,  and  I'll  go  to  town  next  Saturday  and  give  Bill  Smith 
the  cusseJest  licking  he  ever  got  for  lying  about  you  the  way  he 
does." 

I  declined  the  punishment  offered  my  enemy  in  my  behalf,  but 
promised  the  letter.  This  did  not  save  William  S.,  however.  He 
was  somewhat  surprised  to  find  himself  denounced  as  a  reptile  and 
liar,  who  was  not  to  be  permitted  to  promulgate  slanders  on  his 
(Peter's)  particular  friend.  And  to  emphasize  these  casual  remarks 
William  S.  was  given  a  free  admission  to  certain  fireworks  more 
dazzling  than  pleasant.  William,  to  his  credit  be  it  recorded, 
used  due  diligence,  and  came  off  second  best  only  after  a  general 
engagement  that  was  much  admired. 

The  love-letter  was  written  in  choice  phrase,  and  garnished  with 
elegant  extracts  from  Byron  and  Shelley.  I  was  rather  proud  of 
my  work,  and,  giving  it  to  Pete,  assured  him  that  it  was  simply 
splendid,  and  if  it  did  not  fetch  the  divine  Polly  there  was  no  use 
trying.  When  I  saw  Pete's  copy  I  was  disgusted  to  find  that  he 
had  not  only  interpolated  certain  ardent  expressions  of  his  own, 


28      PETER  PEPPERTON'S  FOURTH   O'  JULY  TRIUMPH. 

but  had  eliminated  my  sweet  poetry,  substituting  some  of  his  owi> 
selection,  such  as 

The  rose  is  red,  the  violet's  blue, 
Sugar  is  sweet  and  so  are  you. 

When  I  remonstrated  Pete  said  :  "Oh,  look  here,  Donk,  them 
flights  of  yours  are  high  pints,  and  mountainous,  but  Pop'd  know 
I  didn't  come  by  'em  honestly,  and  I  don't  believe  she'd  grapple 
'em  anyway." 

I  permitted  the  letter  to  go,  and  a  few  days  after  the  divine  Pop 
came  into  our  vine-clad,  maple-shaded  office,  and  requested  a  word 
with  me  in  private.  I  looked  at  my  brother  student,  but  he  de 
clined  taking  the  hint,  so  I  invited  the  fair  creature  to  a  stroll  in 
the  garden.  Seating  myself  on  the  rustic  bench  I  said  : 

"  Well,  Miss  Polly,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?  " 

She  blushed  crimson,  and  in  blushing  took  on  a  grace  that  was 
perfectly  bewitching.  Her  silken  eyelashes  dropped  over  her 
dreamy  brown  eyes,  like  fringed  mist  over  moonbeams,  while 
her  pert  little  nose,  borrowing  expression  from  the  coral  cleft  of  a 
mouth,  seemed  to  be  asserting  composure  amid  confusion.  Sudden 
ly,  putting  her  hand  in  her  bosom,  she  brought  out  Pete's  letter 
and  thrust  it  at  me. 

"Hello,"  said  I,  through  my  mental  telephone,  "has  the  little 
rogue  discovered  our  fraud?"  But  no.  she  immediately  said, 
somewhat  hurriedly,  "  There's  a  letter  writ  me  by  Pete.  It's  first- 
rate.  I  didn't  believe  Pete  had  it  in  him." 

I  pretended  to  read,  and  having  completed  the  pretence,  said 
that  it  was  the  finest  thing  of  the  sort  I  had  ever  seen.  I  offered 
it  to  her. 

"  No,"  she  said,  "you  keep  it." 

"  Why  should  I  keep  poor  Pete's  love-letter,  Miss  Polly?  He'd 
kill  me." 

"  Well,"  she  said,  turning  her  comely  head  away,  "  I  want 
you  to  answer  it  for  me.  1  don't  want  Pete  to  think  I  can't  give 
as  good  as  he  sends.  You  help  me  ;  you  can  do  it,  and  not  try. '' 

"But,  Miss  Polly,  he  will  know  my  writing." 

"  Not  after  I  copy  it.    I  write  a  good  hand  enough,  but  I  can't 


PETER  PEPPERTON'S  FOURTH  O'  JULY  TRIUMPH.     29 

compose  worth  a  cent,  and  then  I  ain't  used  to  such  highfalutin' 
flub-dubs." 

By  Jove,  I  thought,  here's  business — answering  my  own  let 
ter,  and  a  prospect  ahead  of  carrying  on  a  voluminous  correspond 
ence.  I  consented,  and  as  a  reward  for  my  proposed  services  the 
.little  rogue  permitted  me  to  girdle — as  the  country  lads  called  it 
— her  slender  waist  and  imprint  a  kiss  on  her  rosy  mouth. 

"  Say,"  she  added,  extricating  herself  from  my  rather  ardent 
embrace,  "while  you're  at  it,  you  may  as  well  answer  some  of 
these,"  and  she  put  Lawyer  Fossett's  letters  in  my  hand. 

"Now,  Miss  Polly,"  I  cried,  "which  of  these  two  love-sick 
swains  do  you  favor  ?  " 

"  I  don't  care  a  button  for  them.  They  just  make  me  sick 
with  their  palaver.  If  they  only  knew  how  to  act,  like  some  peo 
ple,  who  don't  seem  to  care  for  me,  it  would  be  better  for  them," 
and  the  little  coquette  shot  a  glance  at  me  from  under  her  eye 
lashes  that  made  my  heart  jump  to  one  side,  like  a  colt  shying  at 
a  red  petticoat.  For  an  innocent,  inexperienced  country  girl  to  wii-g 
a  fellow  like  that,  knocked  me  dizzy.  I  made  a  bolt  at  he--,  but 
she  shot  under  my  arm  and  disappeared  round  a  clump  of  lilacs, 
with  a  musical,  ringing  little  laugh  that  told  of  her  keen  appre 
ciation  of  the  fun,  and  my  dire  discomfiture. 

What  volumes  of  love-letters  I  wrote,  to  and  from  myself— on 
the  side  of  Pete,  poor  fellow,  who  never  suspecteJ,  and  in  response 
to  the  passionate  Fossett's.  All  the  while  I  found  myself  getting 
more  entangled  in  the  meshes  of  the  web  this  rustic  beauty  wound 
about  me. 

Talk  about  the  world's  m-isters  of  diplomacy,  there  is  m^re 
subtle  art  and  power  in  a  girl  just  out  than  any  ever  possessed  by 
the  Talleyrand  s  and  Metternichs  of  h' story.  To  see  through  one, 
and  yet  remain  unseen  ;  to  be  cool,  collected,  and  shrewd  in  the 
hottest  contests,  to  win  through  inimi  able  tact  the  subject  dealt 
with,  and  make  the  wise-t  man  play  the  fool,  give  me  a  woman  as 
she  comes  from  the  hands  of  nature. 

With  all  the  advantage  I  possessed  of  Polly's  confidence,  I 
failed  to  make  any  progres  ,  and  was  kept  at  a  certain  distance 
that  always  seemed  to  be  about  closing  and  never  closed. 


30     PETER  PEPPERTON'S  FOURTH    O'  JULY  TRIUMPH. 

My  friend  Pete  seemed  satisfied  with  my  love-letters  written 
him  through  Polly,  and  often  brought  them  to  me  for  a  better  in 
terpretation  of  their  meaning,  as  well  as  answer.  I  did  not  want 
the  pretty  Polly  to  marry  either.  I  was  in  love  with  her,  in  a  cer 
tain  fashion,  and  feared  Fossett  more  than  Pete  ;  so  trying  a  little 
diplomacy  in  my  part,  I  threw  cold  water  on  Andrew  J.  while  I 
encouraged  Pete. 

The  time  came  for  the  celebration  of  the  Fourth,  and  great  was 
the  preparation  thereof.  All  the  farmers  far  and  near  agreed  to 
fetch  provisions,  which  meant  an  unlimited  supply  of  "  chicken 
fixins,"  pies  and  cakes,  heavy  enough  to  give  dirt-eating  Indian 
diggers  a  dreadful  indigestion.  An  old  smooth-bore,  said  to  have 
seen  service  in  the  war  of  '12,  was  borrowed  and  a  gun-squad  or 
ganized,  with  the  aged  Chop'ank  for  captain,  and  it  was  much 
surmised  that  if  the  ancient  Choptank,  who  '"fit  under  Perry," 
could  remain  sober  until  after  the  salute  of  thirteen  guns  the 
salute  would  be  a  success.  Otherwise  it  was  surmise  1  there  would 
be  casualties,  and  some  people's  arms  and  legs  would  be  sacrificed 
to  the  old  smooth-bore  and  the  Fourth.  A  b  ass  band  of  six  dis 
cordant  pieces  from  'Fountain  had  volunteered,  and  gave  assur 
ances  they  would  play  tho  "  Star  Spangled  Banner,"  <f  Hail  Co 
lumbia,"  and  "  Yankee  Dor  die,"  so  as  to  distinguish  one  from  the 
other.  A  moral  showman  was  licensed  to  exhibit  his  "  natural 
curiosities,"  which  consisted  of  a  fat  woman  and  anacondas,  the 
skeleton  man,  and  a  bottled  pig  possessed  of  two  heads  and  an 
assortment  of  ta'ls. 

Such  a  Fourth  had  never  before  been  celebrated  in  the  val 
ley,  and  probably  never  will  be  again. 

Unfortunately,  within  a  week  of  the  great  occasion,  the  elo 
quent  orator  of  the  d  <y,  Andrew  Jackson  Fossett,  was  taken  down 
with  a  violent  attack  of  the  quinsy.  He  could  not  speak  above  a 
whisper,  and  could  not  swallow  at  all.  Of  course,  he  had  to  be 
eliminated  from  the  proceedings.  It  was  too  late  to  engage  an 
other.  No  one  of  us,  on  such  short  notice.,  would  undertake  the 
duty.  Now  a  Fourth  without  an  orator  was  "  Hamlet"  without 
Hamlet,  King,  Queen.  Ophelia,  or  even  Yorick's  skull. 

To    the  amazement   of   every  one,    suddenly   IVer   Pepper- 


PETER  PEPPERTOX'S  FOURTH  O'  JULY  TRIUMPH.     31 

ton  volunteered.  It  was  Hobson's  choice,  and  Pete  was 
accepted. 

"Do  you  want  me  to  help  you?"  I  asked  the  volunteer  the 
day  he  was  accepted. 

"No,  Douk.  Got  a  better  lay-out  than  that.  Keep  you're 
off  eye  on  me.  I'm  goin'  to  git  her  this  time  or  break  a  trace. 
Stay  in  the  high  grass  till  ye  hear  me  yell,  then  tumble  out  an' 
see  big  Ingin." 

The  Fourth  came,  big  with  the  fate  of  Peter  and  his  love.  As 
sembled  in  Whopple's  grove,  the  farmers'  and  farmers'  wives  and 
children,  gotten  up  in  their  store-clothes,  perspired  in  profusion 
while  listening  to  the  six  pieces  of  a  brass-band,  that  made  up  in 
blowing  all  thry  lacked  in  music.  Captain  Choptank,  with  his 
gun-squad  and  old  smooth-bore,  at  intervals  startled  the  jays  and 
our  assembly  with  a  mouthing  roar  that  to'd  in  thunder  of  the 
glorious  struggle  of  our  fathers  for  independence.  The  venerable 
Choptank  was  very  drunk,  even  at  that  early  hour,  but  he 
seemed  quite  as  efficient  drunk  as  sober. 

The  Eev.  Doolittle  Stubbs  opened  the  ceremonies  with  an 
eloquent  address  to  the  "  Throne  of  Grace."  Then  followed  the 
reading  of  that  elegant  compos  tion  from  the  pen  of  the  immortal 
Jefferson,  called  the  Declaration  of  Independence,  and  then  Peter 
came  to  the  front,  in  gorgeous  apparel  and  a  high  state  of  perspi 
ration.  Assuming  a  bold,  pugilistic  position,  peculiar  to  Fourth  of 
July  orators,  he  paused  before  giving  the  British  lion  one  in  the 
countenance  to  take  us  into  his  confidence,  by  saying  :  "  Feller- 
citizens,  ladies,  and  gentlemen."  His  opening  sentence  was  lost  in 
old  Chop  tank's  loar  from  the  smooth-bore. 

When  the  noise  had  subsided,  I  discovered  that  Pete  had 
launched  the  ship  of  state.  The  S.  of  S.  is  alwlays  launched 
in  a  Fourth  of  July  oration.  It  has  rough  weather,  of  course. 
The  clouds  darken,  the  thunder  rolls,  the  mountain  waves  mount 
to  the  skies.  But  there  is  a  hand  at  the  helm,  and  he  steers 
the  bark,  laden  with  the  hopes  of  humanity,  safely  to  its  harbor. 
This  introduces  Washington,  and  Washington  is  a  Moses,  a  star, 
a  mountain  peak,  and  a  god. 

Washington,  of  course,  lets  fly  the  American  eagle.     Pete  flew 


32     PETER  PEPPERTON'S  FOURTH  O'  JULY  TRIUMPH. 

the  eagle  for  all  it  was  worth.  He  had  one  wing  on  the  Alleghenies, 
the  other  on  the  Rockies,  while  the  tail  o'ershadowed  the  Can- 
adas— and  while  screaming  and  soaring  in  the  most  terrible  man 
ner  the  British  lion  was  seen  in  full  retreat  across  the  stormy  seas, 
quite  sick,  and  fearfully  demoralized. 

Pete  was  acquitting  himself  with  rare  excellence.  He 
had  suddenly  broken  out  like  an  Indian  war  in  full  bloom 
as  a  great  orator.  I  never  had  heard  such  a  volume  of  sounds, 
never  such  a  collection  of  many-syllabled  words.  The  audience 
applauded  every  sentence,  and  Choptank's  cannon  roared  in 
response. 

In  the  midst  of  this  the  sick  Andrew  J.  Fossett  appeared,  and 
was  helped  kindly  to  a  seat.  His  neck  was  done  up  in  a  huge 
poultice,  and  his  face  was  pale  as  death.  Suddenly  the  sick  man 
staggered  to  his  feet.  His  face  reddened  to  the  tint  of  a  boiled 
lobster  and  his  eyes  glared  with  the  gleam  of  a  maniac.  He  could 
only  utter  shrieks,  while  he  gesticulated  like  a  windmill  struck  by 
a  cyclone. 

He  was  delirious,  all  thought,  and  kind  but  strong  arms  carried 
him  away,  while  Pete  in  his  peroration  had  Columbia  soaring  and 
tyranny  sinking  in  the  dark  vortex  of  coming  time.  "  Upward 
and  onward!"  cried  Pete,  "the  star  of  liberty  gleamin'  with 
dazzlin'  refulgence,  in  her  crown  of  glory,  casting  its  light 
ning  ray  adown  the  coming  centuries  of  untold  time,  reflaring, 
reflecting,  ad  infinitum,  onward  and  upward  forever.  E  pluribus 
unum  !  " 

Pete  closed.  The  audience  shouted.  The  women  waved  hand 
kerchiefs,  the  men  cotton  umbrellas.  Choptank  fired  his  last 
charge,  and  the  band  struck  up — blame  me  if  I  know  what  it 
struck  up,  but  it  was  a  noise,  to  which  the  assembly  scattered,  and 
I  saw  Pete,  with  Polly  upon  his  arm,  march  off  to  the  collation, 
with  her  sweet  face  beaming  in  love  and  triumph. 

Two  weeks  thereafter  they  were  married. 

Andrew  Jackson  Fossett  was  very  ill  for  a  month  thereafter. 
When  convalescent  he  sank  into  a  profound  gloom,  as  if  his  life 
were  blighted.  He  proved  this  by  throwing  up  his  profession  and 
becoming  that  elegant  enemy  of  man  known  as  a  hotel  clerk, 


PETER  PEPPERTON'S  FOURTH  O'  JULY  TRIUMPH.     33 

with  a  diamond  breast-pin,  at  a  fashionable  hotel  in  a  distant 
city. 

Years  after  Pete  confided  to  me  a  startling  fact  that  solved 
the  mystery  of  this  strange  affair.  He  had  stolen  his  rival's 
oration. 


LUNY    LE1ST. 

NOVEL  III. 

THE  railroad  station  known  as  Glen  Cove  is  one  of  the  dreariest 
this  side  of  that  final  abode  said  to  be  extremely  sultry,  where  all 
presidents,  directors,  and  other  railway  officials,  more  especially 
ticket-agents,  fetch  up  and  finish  their  labors.  Were  it  not  so 
hard  on  Mugby  Junction,  I  should  say  Glen  Cove  was  the  Mugby 
Junction  of  America.  Indigestion  is  kept  there,  like  fixed  ammu 
nition  in  the  quartermaster's  department,  to  serve  out  at  a  mo 
ment's  notice  to  hungry  and  insane  passengers,  and  it  is  safe,  for 
the  trains  carry  the  sufferers  to  die  in  distant  localities. 

One  hot,  sunny  day  of  midsummer  I  found  myself  anticipating 
the  punishment  due  for  sins  and  shortcomings  in  this  world  by 
waiting  for  an  eastern -bound  train  long  overdue,  as  if  the  trains, 
like  the  passengers,  disliked  approaching  the  depot  at  which  I 
suffered. 

A  surly  telegrapher,  also  ticket  agent,  who  jerked  lightning, 
shot  insults  and  tickets  through  a  hole  at  people,  told  me,  after 
an  hour's  cross-examination  that  was  very  cross,  that  my  train  had 
brought  up  in  a  corn-field,  and  I  could  not  possibly  get  away  by  rail 
before  midnight. 

Now,  what  to  do  with  myself  from  the  noon  of  this  information 
to  the  noon  of  night  was  a  question  that  sorely  perplexed  me.  I 
had  no  book,  no  papers,  no  anything  to  relieve  the  dull  monotony 
of  that  awful  wait. 

I  wandered  listlessly  about  the  dirty  depot  and  platform.  Both 
were  hot  enough  to  roast  potatoes  in  the  shade.  I  gazed  on — nay, 
I  studied  all  the  colored  bills,  giving  picturesque  views  of  various 
towns,  and  telling  in  assorted  type  the  advantages  each  had  over 
the  other — the  only  bit  of  amusement  I  had,  and  it  was  very  mild. 
I  found  in  guessing  at  the  missing  letters  of  a  bill  which  read 
"  ROUGH  LIKE  TO  CHICAGO,"  some  scamp  had  cut  out  the  initial 


LUNY  LEN.  35 

"Th"  when  the  bill  had  originally  read,  "Through  Line  to 
Chicago.'' 

While  upon  the  platform  gazing  at  an  accommodation  train  just 
in,  that  was  awaiting  its  conductor  who  was  leisurely  ge' ting  orders 
from  the  telegrapher,  I  was  attracted  by  a  noisy  crowd  of  men  and 
boys,  gathered  about  a  young  fellow  whose  face  indicated  the  idiotic 
condition  that  originated  their  entertainment. 

He  was  a  tall,  broad  shouldered,  well-formed  youth,  and  well 
dressed  for  one  in  his  condition.  But  he  had  his  clothes  half-but 
toned,  in  the  loose,  reckless  manner  of  his  class,  while  his  face, 
without  its  intellectual  outlook,  was  regular  in  feature,  and  one 
could  see,  had  there  been  a  brain  back  of  it,  would  have  been  emi 
nently  handsome.  As  anxiety  and  care  had  ceased  writing  its  rec 
ord  of  age  upon  his  face,  it  was  difficult  to  tell  his  age.  He  had 
the  form  of  a  man  and  the  face  of  a  child. 

"  It's  the  opinion  of  this  crowd,  Len,"  said  the  blacksmith  to 
the  idiot,  "that  you  can  beat  that  locomotive  in  a  race  from  here 
to  the  tunnel,  and  we  have  bet  ten  thousand  dollars  on  it." 

The  poor  fellow's  dead  face  lit  up  with  an  expression  of  de 
light,  so  pitiable  that  it  would  have  disarmed  any  other  crowd  than 
the  one  engaged  in  chaffing  him.  He  gazed  wistfully  at  the  huge 
locomotive  that  stood  hissing  in  the  hot  sun  as  if  wrathful  at  the 
delay,  and  then  he  turned  to  the  cruel  crowd  as  if  the  suggestion 
was  slowly  working  its  way  through  his  poor  crippled  brain. 

"  Go  in,  Len,"  cried  one  of  the  crowd,  "  we've  got  our  money 
on  you,  and  you're  bound  to  win." 

"  We'll  give  you  fifty  yards  the  start.  You  keep  on  the  track/' 
cried  the  blacksmith,  "and  the  thing  can't  pass  you.'' 

I  could  scarcely  believe  these  scoundrels  were  in  earnest,  when 
the  surly  engineer  gave  the  last  bang  to  his  noisy  bell,  exploded  a 
short  snort  from  the  locomotive  in  the  way  of  warning,  and  to  my 
astonishment  I  saw  the  idiot,  throwing  off  his  coat,  start  down 
the  track  ahead  of  the  train.  Fortunately  the  engineer  caught 
sight  of  the  poor  fellow,  and  checking  the  speed  of  the  locomotive, 
began  ringing  him  off  the  track.  This  was  responded  to  by  the 
idiot  bawling  out  with  great  glee:  "Come  on  with  your  old  tea 
kettle!"  and  the  brutal  crowd  cheered  and  roared  with  laughter. 


36  LUNY  LEN. 

The  crowd,  keeping  along  with  the  train,  cheered  lustily,  and 
the  lunatic  "spurted,"  as  they  say  in  a  boat-race — that  is,  shot 
ahead  and  exhibited  considerable  power  as  a  racer  by  the  speed 
with  which  he  got  over  the  ground.  The  engineer,  infuriated  at 
the  delay,  put  on  speed  and  rattled  after.  But  he  was  upon  a 
down-grade,  and,  fearful  of  overtaking  the  unfortunate,  he  almost 
immediately  put  on  the  brakes  and  checked  up  again. 

By  this  time  heads  were  thrust  out  of  windows  and  the  plat 
forms  crowded  by  passengers  whose  excitement  became  noisy  and 
intense  as  they  discovered  that  it  was  a  human  being  instead  of  a 
cow  that  impeded  their  progress.  As  for  the  idiot,  he  paused  only 
long  enough  to  indulge  in  a  jeering  laugh  and  a  gesture  that  was 
more  irritating  than  decent. 

The  crowd  of  brutal  loafers  that  exhibited  more  industry  in 
accompanying  the  race  on  this  occasion  than  they  had  probably 
manifested  in  making  an  honest  living  for  a  year  previous,  went 
tearing  along  each  side  of  the  locomotive,  laughing,  shouting, 
cheering  on  the  idiot,  while  hurling  all  sorts  of  exasperating 
epithets  at  the  engineer,  who,  by  this  time,  was  nearly  blind  with 
rage. 

At  this  moment  the  conductor  made  his  appearance,  and,  crawl 
ing  out  upon  the  tender,  began  throwing  lumps  of  coal  at  the  boy, 
as  the  engineer,  putting  on  steam,  drew  near  the  poor  fellow. 

Fortunately  the  conductor's  aims  were  not  well  taken,  for  had 
the  young  man  been  knocked  down  the  locomotive  would  have 
undoubtedly  run  over  him. 

From  this  the  rough  autocrat  of  the  train  soon  desisted,  for 
the  idiot's  backers,  with  an  American  sense  of  fair  play  that  ani 
mates  even  the  roughest  of  our  brutes,  began  pelting  the  conductor 
with  stones,  each  pebble  sent  with  the  accuracy  of  a  rifle-shot  at 
that  part  of  his  animal  economy  where  the  legs  end  and  the  body 
begins.  He  retreated  hurriedly  to  the  engine-house,  where  he 
rubbed  his  person  in  a  comical  way  with  one  hand,  while  with  the 
other  he  assuaged  his  wrath  by  a  furious  ringing  of  the  bell.  The 
engineer  seconded  his  efforts  by  letting  off  short  shrieks  and  keep 
ing  the  locomotive  frightfully  close  upon  the  heels  of  the  wretched 
youth. 


LUNY  LEN.  oi 

Having  begun  life  with  a  strange  disposition  to  take  upon  my 
self  the  ills  of  others,  and  finding  such  practice  extremely  unpleas 
ant  and  useless,  I  have  gradually  trained  myself  into  the  other 
extreme,  and  generally  bear  the  misfortunes  of  my  friends  with  a 
philosophical  indifference  that  is  very  composing.  On  this  occa 
sion,  however,  I  forgot  my  cynicism  and  found  myself  running 
under  that  broiling  sun,  shaking  my  fist,  with  my  heart  in  my 
mouth,  at  the  conductor,  and  demanding  in  the  most  authorita 
tive  manner  that  he  stop  the  train. 

From  the  depot  to  the  tunnel  was  about  half  a  mile  ;  to  accom 
plish  this  distance  the  train  and  idiot  occupied  some  four  minutes. 
The  passengers,  crowded  at  windows  and  on  the  platforms,  took  as 
lively  an  interest  in  the  affair  as  the  entire  population  of  Glen 
Cove  that  accompanied  the  train  and  backed  the  idiot.  It  was  a 
Godsend  to  the  passengers,  and  they  expressed  their  satisfaction  by 
the  liveliest  betting  and  cheers,  first  for  the  locomotive  and  then 
for  its  strange  competitor. 

It  was  neck-and-neck  between  life  and  the  locomotive.  A 
false  step,  a  stumble,  and  the  huge  mass  of  roaring,  throbbing  iron 
would  have  gone  crushing  over  the  frail  body  of  the  man  who  so 
strangely  impeded  its  progress.  And  such  result  was  imminent ; 
for  the  poor  fellow,  exhausted  by  excitement  and  over-exertion, 
staggered  at  times,  and  at  times  reeled  as  if  about  to  fall,  in  a  way 
to  make  me  shudder. 

That  such  would  probably  have  been  the  result  became 
painfully  apparent,  when  an  abrupt  and  somewhat  unexpected 
termination  was  put  to  the  cruel  sport.  The  man  stationed  at 
the  mouth  of  the  tunnel  and  employed  to  keep  its  murky  depths 
clear  of  obstructions,  suddenly  seized  tha  youth,  at  the  risk  of  his 
own  life,  and  threw  him  with  some  violence  to  one  side.  Such 
was  the  effort  that  both  rolled  over,  and  the  huge  locomotive, 
giving  a  shrill  scream  of  triumph,  dived  into  the  tunnel,  f  Jlowed 
by  the  long  train,  that  disappeared  as  if  the  earth  had  opened  and 
swallowed  it. 

I  sat  down  at  the  mouth  of  the  subterranean  excavation  quite 
exhausted  as  the  crowd  dispersed,  and  from  the  mouth  of  the 
dark  entrance  was  pleased  to  find  a  cool,  damp  air  that  came  out  in 


38  LUNY  LEN. 

puffs,  as  if  a  dragon  were  coiled  up  within  and  panted  out  its  cold, 
clammy  breath.  I  asked  the  old  watchman  a  series  of  idle 
questions,  of  a  statistical  sort,  such  as  a  man  under  the  circum 
stances  always  indulges  in.  He  grunted  out  the  exact  length  of 
the  tunnel,  the  time  required  to  construct  it,  the  accidents  that 
occurred  within  his  remembrance,  and  altogether,  in  response  to 
my  leading  questions,  exhibited  a  good  deal  of  information  on 
tunnels.  For  a,  man  to  know  one  thing  well  is  a  power.  It  is  bet 
ter,  however,  to  believe  you  know  Fome  one  thing  and  impart  the 
information  to  your  friends.  It  is  a  bore  at  best  and  just  as  well 
when  it  takes  the  shape  of  a  tunnel. 

Having  exhausted  the  hole  in  the  ground — and  really,  come  to 
think  of  it,  there  was  nothing  in  it — I  spoke  of  the  late  race. 

"  Crazy  jackass  ! "  quoth  the  sententious  guardian  of  the 
excavation  ;  "  he'll  git  killed  yet,  and  sooner  the  better  for  all 
consarned." 

"  Why,  do  they  often  put  him  up  to  that?" 

"  No,  not  frequent.  They  do  it  on  t  at  train  sometimes,  for 
they  hate  the  conductor.  Onct,  long  ago,  it  wasn't  needed.  He 
used  to  run  ahead  of  every  t  ain,  clear  through  the  tunnel,  a 
warnin'  people  off.  They  switched  that  out  uv  him.  Now  the 
ornary  cusses  puts  him  up  to  it." 

"  Queer  sort  of  insanity/' 

"  Isn't  it  ?  and  he  was  onct  a  bright  feller — a  rale  schollard." 

"  Indeed?" 

"  Yes,  was  onct,  but  left  his  senses  in  this  tunnel." 

"Why,  how  was  that?" 

"  Well,  you  see,  he's  the  son  of  old  Judge  Conrad,  of  these 
parts — only  child  at  that — and  was  sent  to  college,  and  no  end  of 
trouble  taken  and  money  spent  to  finish  and  furnish  up  his 
intellects.  When  he  came  home  to  study  law,  what  does  he  do 
but  take  after  a  little  girl  named  Mary  Grubbs,  da'ter  of  the 
cooper,  an'  she  was  poor  as  a  pig  an'  purty  as  a  painted  wagon. 
Well,  I  guess  she  was  about  the  handsomest  critter  in  this  part  of 
the  vineyard.  Len  Conrad  was  struck,  I  tell  you,  after  Polly,  as 
we  called  her,  an'  I  don't  wonder  ;  for  her  hair  was  as  soft  and 
light  as  silk  on  early  corn,  an'  she  had  the  handsomest  teeth,  an' 


LUXY  LEX.  30 

the  biggest,  wonderfullest  dark  eyes,  air  an  angeliferous  skin. 
But  neither  she  nor  her  old  cooperin'  dad  had  a  cent,  so  the 
Conrads,  bein'  toploftical  mahogany  high  posters,  just  shut  down 
on  her/' 

"The  old,  old  story." 

"  I  don't  know  ef  it's  so  old.  Perhaps  you've  heerd  it  afore,  an' 
I  can  save  my  wind." 

"I  mean  that  the  course  of  true  love  never  does  run  smooth." 

"Oh!  that's  it,  is  it?" 

"  Xo  offence,  old  man.  But  proceed  with  your  yarn  and  tell 
me  how  Len  Conrad  left  his  senses  in  the  tunnel." 

"That's  what  I  was  a  comin'  to  when  you  put  in  your  chin 
music.  When  Len  found  the  family  was  forninst  the  courtin'  he 
took  to  mee:in'  her  unbeknownst.  That  was  found  out,  and  then 
it  was  decreed  that  Len  should  be  sent  to  Yourope.  The  even  in' 
upon  Lens  departure  he  meets  his  girl,  av  course,  an'  they  mean 
dered  naterly  a  li  tie  too  late,  an'  undertook  to  make  a  short-cut  to 
the  cooper  house  through  the  tunnel.  I  saw  the  cloves  go  in.  She 
was  a-leanin'  on  his  shoulder  a-weepin,  an'  he  looked  as  if  he'd  lost 
his  mother-in-law." 

"  Mother-in  1  iw  !  " 

"  That's  a  little  joke  o'  mine,  mister.  I  mean  he  looked  like  a 
canned  funeral.  I  warned  'em  not  to  try  the  tunnel,  for  it  was 
close  on  to  the  time  for  the  lightnin'  express.  But  they  didn't 
heed  or  hear  me — jes'  kept  on  in.  After  they  had  left  I  got  that 
oneasy  I  took  my  lantern  an'  run  arter  'em.  Jes'  as  I  came 
in  sight  the  infernal  thing  came  a  roarin'  past  Glen  Cove — it  don't 
stop  there — an'  I  heard  the  whistle  as  the  death  on  wheels  plunged 
into  the  tunnel.  I  jammed  the  wall,  I  tell  yez.  I  could  see  Len  push 
his  girl  agin  the  same  so  the  train  might  pass  and  not  touch,  an' 
like  a  flash  I  saw  her  tear  away.  Now,  whether  she  was  scart  and 
didn't  know  what  she  was  about,  or  wanted  to  kill  herself,  can't  be 
known,  but  she  shot  right  in  front  ovthat  train.  I  saw  the  head 
light  shine  like  a  flash  uv  lightn'ng  on  a  white,  frightened  face  as 
I  crowded  back  ag  n  the  wall,  an'  then  with  a  roar  like  thunder,  an' 
the  whole  thing  seemed  wiped  out  as  if  a  sponge  had  sorter 
sponged  us  out.  I  heard  the  train's  thunder  sort  of  spread  as  it 


40  LUNY  LEN. 

left  the  tunnel,  as  if  soundin'  the  murder  over  the  land,  an'  I 
stood  there  in  a  sort  uv  a  daze  listnin'  to  that  roar  die  out  in  the 
distance.  When  I  come  round,  which  1  did  in  a  minit,  I  ran  on. 
I  stumbled  over  po  >r  Len,  lyin'  as  if  dead,  an7  then  I  run  up  and 
down  at  least  twict  before  I  saw  a  heap  that  looked  like  a  bundle 
of  rags  soaked  in  bl  od,  an'  will  you  believe,  the  bundle  moved. 
It  was  only  a  quiver,  an'  all  was  still.  She  d  dn't  make  a  lovely 
corpse  when  we  got  it  togther.  S^me  people  sickened  an'  fainted 
when  they  saw  it." 

"AndLen?" 

"  We  carted  him  home.  The  doct  TS  could  not  find  any  bones 
broken,  cuts,  or  hurt  inside  or  out,  but  he  lay  sorter  stoopid  six 
weeks  and  then  got  up  an'  has  been  looney  ever  since." 

"Poor  fellow." 

"  Should  think  so.  Queerest  thing  about  the  poor  chap  was 
that  he  took  to  runnin'  ahead  uv  trains,  gohr  through  the  tunnel 
a-warnin'  people  off,  He  sorter  got  that  hammered  out  uv  him." 

"  The  old  folks  learned  a  lesson,  eh  ?  " 

"  Not  much  ;  can't  teach  sich  old  stoopids  much.  They  do 
say  the  old  Jedge  has  softenin'  uv  the  brain,  but  I  don't  believe 
he  had  any  to  soften." 


HANDLED    GOODS. 

NOVEL   IT. 

MAKING  a  hasty  escape  from  the  Green  Briar  White  Sulphur 
Springs,  where  the  wretched  fare  poisoned  the  day  and  the  noise 
at  night  robbed  one  of  sleep,  I  took  refuge  at  the  Old  Sweet 
Chalybeate  Springs.  Xext  to  the  Congressional  Library  at  Wash 
ington,  this  place  is  the  least  frequented  and  quietest  resort 
known  to  South-  rn  humanity.  A  few  fashionable  people  willing 
ever  to  pay  for  their  exclusiveness  ;  a  few  noted  men  whose  pock 
ets  accord  with  their  taste  and  really  seek  for  rest ;  a  number  of 
old  habitues  given  to  quiet  games  of  poker  and  silent  drinking  ; 
quite  a  number 'of  invalids  making  a  hard  fight  for  life,  compose 
the  patrons  of  the  Old  Sweet,  and  the  quiet  repose  was  so  startling 
that  I  felt  like  one  escaping  from  a  Donnybrook  fair  who  finds 
himself  in  an  old  moss-grown  cemetery. 

Sitting  one  morning  on  one  of  those  instruments  of  torture 
called  a  rustic  bench  at  the  Spring,  I  saw  a  fair  lady  com  ng  to 
wards  us  along  the  elm-shaded  walk,  escorted  by  a  youth  got 
up  in  white  flannel,  punctuated  by  a  blue  necktie,  and  as  he 
carried  his  light  panama  hat  in  hand,  his  blond  hair  appeared 
evenly  parted  on  that  bulbous  termination  to  a  spinal  column 
called  a  head.  The  young  man  had  an  eye-glass  screwed  in  before 
one  optic,  that  being  held  to  its  place  by  muscular  effort,  gave  to 
one  side  of  his  face  the  appearance  of  a  much  wrinkled  monkey's, 
while  the  other  was  as  smooth  and  youthful  as  an  infant's. 

I  knew  the  lady— Miss  Adelaide  DePros.  She  was  for  many 
seasons  a  belle  at  Washington,  and  lifting  my  hat  at  her  approach, 
got  in  return  a  smile  of  recognition  that  flashed  over  her  fair,  pale 
face  like  sunlight  over  ice.  As  she  sipped  at  a  glass  of  water  her 
escort  gave  her,  my  mind  went  back  over  the  years  to  the  time 
when  this  lovely  girl  appeared  to  rise  on  society  like  a  new-born 
Venus  from  a  foamy  sea  of  skirts.  I  use  this  well-worn  figure 


42  HANDLED  GOODS. 

because  of  the  fascinating  freshness  the  little  maiden  gave  the 
fashionable  world.  Of  course  her  family  and  the  remnant  of 
wealth  left  from  the  civil  war  gave  her  position,  but  the  winning 
qualities  were  all  her  own.  Her  great  beauty  was  enhanced  by  a 
strange  combination  of  frankness  and  diffidence  that  made  her-at 
once  shy  and  confiding. 

Ah  me,  social  life  has  changed  for  the  worse  since  that  day, 
and  especially  at  Washington.  Time  was  when  beauty  reigned 
at  our  capital  as  wealth  reigns  to-day.  I  remember  when  Miss 
Woodbury  had  a  greater  following  than  Henry  Clay.  The  advent 
of  a  fresh  belle  was  heralded,  and  when  she  came  a  way  opened  of 
itself  before  her  in  ball-rooms  and  at  receptions,  where  a  general 
silence  was  followed  by  murmurs  of  admiration.  That  was  the 
day  of  bouquets  and  serenades,  duels  and  public  adorations.  In 
the  smoking-rooms,  cloak-rooms,  and  barber  shops  of  House  and 
Senate,  eminent  solons  interspersed  political  jokes  with  stories  of 
fair  women,  and  eloquent  members  looked  up  to  the  galleries,  not 
in  fear  of  journalists,  but  to  get  inspiration  from  lovely  faces  and 
bright  eyes.  The  fair  forms  and  the  eloquent  solons  have  long 
since  mouldered  into  dust,  and  in  their  places  the  money-getters 
of  our  busy  life  are  the  actors  who  move  an  empire  and  tread  to 
earth,  as  under  the  hoofs  of  animals,  the  poetry  of  life. 

But  to  return  to  our  mutton.  Miss  Adelaide's  season  ended  in 
a  little  romance  wherein  she  fell  captive  to  the  wooing  of  a 
Southern  youth,  about  the  worst  selection  she  could  have  made 
from  the  army  of  men  who  eagerly  sought  her  hand.  She  be 
came  engaged,  and  her  father  consented  only  on  an  agreement 
from  the  young  people  that  the  marriage  should  be  deferred  for 
a  year.  Before  the  year  was  out  the  lover  broke  his  troth,  and 
married  a  wealthy  widow,  so  much  older  than  himself  that  she 
could  have  been  his  mother,  and  might  well  be  counted  on  to  be 
his  sainted  Maria  before  many  years  of  ill-usage. 

Miss  Adelaide  did  not  sicken  and  die  of  unfortunate  true  love. 
She  had  too  tough  a  fibre  for  that,  and  too  much  self-respect  to 
marry  from  pique  the  first  eligible  offer.  The  lesson  taught  her 
made  a  heartless  coquette.  She  found  amusement  in  playing 
with  hearts,  while  she  kept  her  own  untouched. 

It  was  interesting  to  study  the  lovely  face  as  through  season 


HANDLED  GOODS.  43 

after  season  the  girlish  freshness  faded.  It  gave  place  to  an  in 
tellectual  outlook  almost  as  fascinating.  Men  fell  as  readily  in 
love  with  her  as  before,  but  while  she  favored  many  she  commit 
ted  herself  to  no  one,  and  stories  were  told  of  promising  men 
ruined  by  her  as  she  dismissed  them  right  and  left.  It  was  said 
that  some  took  to  business  and  others  to  drink.  Of  course  all 
these  stories  of  her  fatal  influence  were  got  up  by  envious 
rivals.  Men  have  gone  to  drink  and  cards  and  ruined  themselves, 
but  never  from  love.  That  would  have  been  their  end,  of  course, 
had  never  an  Adelaide  De  Pros  crossed  their  paths. 

Time  was  kind  to  Adelaide,  and  the  winning  beauties  of  her 
face  disappeared  only  to  give  place  to  others,  but  these  others 
were  not  of  the  sort  to  win  eligible  husbands,  and  at  thirty  the 
beautiful  woman  found  herself  yet  a  belle,  "followed,  flattered, 
sought,  and  sued,"  but  not  by  men  from  whom  she  could  select  a 
husband.  Of  late  she  had  devoted  herself  to  religion  and  litera 
ture,  but  neither  in  piety  nor  books  could  she  see  for  herself  a 
future  that  would  render  her  either  successful  or  content.  She 
had  not  entirely  exhausted  either  Europe  or  our  own  continent, 
but  she  had  exhausted  herself,  and  depressed  in  spirit  and  health, 
she  had  come  to  the  Old  Sweet  under  the  care  of  General  Janson 
and  family,  with  nothing  but  a  blooded  horse  and  riding-habit  to 
detract  her  attention  from  cards,  meditation,  and  a  care  of  her 
health. 

As  she  walked  away,  a  voice  at  my  elbow  said,  "Handled 
goods/'  I  turned  with  an  angry  interrogation  point  in  my  eyes  to 
stare  at  Hamilton  Porkus,  of  Chicago. 

This  young  man  had  made  himself  familiar  to  every  guest  at 
the  Spring.  He  did  not  rest  with  these,  but  was  on  the  best  of 
terms  with  the  diamond-breasted  man  of  the  clerk's  office,  whose 
insolence  of  manner  made  every  one  long  for  a  shotgun  ;  with 
that  gorgeous  creature  the  head  waiter  of  the  dining-room,  who 
made  one  feel  as  if  he  ought  to  go  out  and  buy  some  new  clothes  ; 
and  he  had  the  run  of  the  stables,  where  he  passed  the  greater 
part  of  his  time.  Young,  rather  handsome,  easy,  good-natured 
and  impudent,  he  offended  nobody  while  failing  to  please  any  one. 

The  only  son  and  heir  of  the  late  Doctor  Porkus,  the  young 


4:4  HANDLED  GOODS. 

man  lived  to  spend  the  million  his  medicated  parent  had  accumu 
lated  through  a  patent  pai§  extractor.  Cool,  cunning,  and  selfish, 
the  heir  held  well  to  the  fortune.  His  earlier  sorrow  and  disgust 
came  of  the  fact  that  society  did  not  recognize  his  claims,  and 
later  certain  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to  made  him  unhappy.  He  had 
inherited  enough  of  his  father's  money-getting  instincts  to  shut 
him  out  of  an  enjoyment  of  life.  Hence  travel  bored  him,  art 
and  literature  were  dead  letters  to  him,  and,  dimly  conscious  of 
the  fact  that  good  society  ignored  him,  he  had  but  one  ambition, 
and  that  was  to  be  one  of  that  mythical  world. 

" Gambling,"  he  was  wont  to  say,  "is  no  good.  I  don't  want 
a  fellow's  money,  and,  by  God,  I  don't  want  him  to  have  mine. 
Dissipation — well,  I  tried  that — can't  stand  it.  At  the  end  of  last 
winter  I  was  sick  to  crying,  as  the  country  girls  say.  A  friend 
told  me  to  see  Fordyce  Barker.  I  did  ;  he  punched  and  pounded 
me,  tumbled  me  up  and  down,  located  my  trouble  in  the  liver, 
gave  me  a  prescription  and  a  bill  of  two  hundred  dollars.  Then 
another  friend  said  I  must  see  Hammond.  Hammond  Porkus  did 
all  Barker's  punching  and  pounding,  then  he  stuck  pins  in  my  legs, 
looked  into  my  eyes  an-1  said  he  saw  an  obscure  disease  in  the 
base  of  my  brain.  He  saw  five  hundred  dollars  of  my  money  at 
the  same  time.  Then  I  went  to  Leart,  and  he  said  I  had  the 
new  nervous  disorder  that  began  with  a  bang  in  the  head  and 
ended  with  softening  of  the  brain.  This  information  cost  me  two 
hundred  dollars.  Then  I  tried  Bartholow  ;  he  gave  me  twenty 
minutes  and  a  demand  for  two  hundred  and  fifty.  While  I  was 
counting  out  the  money,  he  told  me  I  didn't  need  a  physician  but 
a  hoe-handle  and  skim  milk.  '  Go  to  the  country/  he  said,  '  live 
on  thirty-seven  and  a  half  cents  a  day  and  earn  it.'  I  came  back 
to  Washington,  and  Garnett  said  I  had  Washington  malaria  that 
was  bottled  and  labelled  champagne  and  whiskey,  and  advised  me 
to  go  to  Old  Sweet  and  soak  it  out." 

This  was  the  man  that  had  said  "handled  goods"  as  the 
beautiful  Miss  Adelaide  swept  away.  As  I  did  not  like  the  coarse 
expression,  not  taking  it  clearly,  he  continued  : 

"  Handled  goods,  Colonel,  are  apt  to  be  damaged — second-hand 
any  how— and  a  fellow  wants  the  article  fresh  if  he  wants  it  at  all," 


HANDLED  GOODS.  45 

"  You  find  a  good  deal  of  handled  goods  at  these  summer  re 
sorts,  Mr.  Porkus." 

"You  bet.  The  guls  are  thrown  on  the  market,  and  a  good 
deal  pawed  over  before  taken.  Don't  like  it.  Handled  goods  are 
apt  to  be  damaged  goods/' 

"  You  should  go  into  the  rural  districts,  and  get  some  charm 
ing,  fresh  country  lass  to  make  you  happy." 

Mr.  Hamilton  Porkus  gave  a  quite  little  laugh,  and  responded, 
"Tried  it,  by  Jove!  Xo-go,  Colonel;  was  down  for  an  autumn 
at  a  country  house.  Had  a  sweet  little  blonde  pitched  at  me.  Xo 
chignon,  by  Jove  !  real  hair  on  plump  white  shoulders  ;  little  or 
no  pannier  ;  all  natural  as  morning  glories,  moss-roses,  and  fresh 
eggs.  Thought  my  time  had  come.  We  rode  and  walked  and 
spoonied  for  three  months.  By  Jove  !  done  up  that  parcel  in 
three  weeks ;  time  flew  so.  Well,  I  popped,  and  she  just  come 
down  into  pocket  as  natural  and  sweet  and  soft ;  well,  for  a  week  I 
was  in  a  rural  heaven  with  an  angel  done  up  in  muslin  and  loving 
simplicity.  One  day  I  came  in  from  a  bit  of  gunning,  and  passing 
by  the  identical  summer-house  where  I  had  popped,  I  heard  a 
little  cry  garnished  with  sobs.  The  leaves  were  dropping  from 
that  summer-house,  and  the  wind  blew  so  that  it  might  be  a  sound 
from  both  ;  but  I  turned  in,  and.  by  Jove  !  there  was  my  rural 
felicity  in  the  arms  of  a  tall  fellow,  ugly — to  me — as  Satan,  and 
wearing  a  bob-tailed  navy-blue.  When  they  saw  me  the  fellow 
looked  fierce,  and  my  love  flabbergasted.  Well,  in  an  instant  she 
flopped — not  in  my  arms,  but  down  upon  her  knees,  and  with  sob 
bing  voice  and  streaming  eyes  begged  me  not  to  break  her  heart, 
that  she  loved  Henry  Augustus.  I  said  '  handled  goods/ and  as 
rural  felicity  didn't  comprehend,  I  said,  '  Rise  up,  Isabella  ;  take 
her,  navy-blue.  Bless  you,  my  children  ! ' ; 

I  give  Mr.  Hamilton  Porkus  at  length,  for  he  is  the  hero  of 
our  one  bit  of  romance.  He  met  his  fate,  and  a  better  one  than 
he  deserved,  leaving  out  the  million  accumulated  from  the  patent 
pain  extractor.  It  came  about  in  this  wise  :  Mr.  Hamilton  Porkus 
had  nothing  to  engage  his  active  intellect  but  treatment,  and  it  was 
the  most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  he  should  become  devoted 
to  the  fair  lady.  She  received  his  attentions  graciously.  They 


46  HANDLED   GOODS. 

walked  in  pairs,  rode  together,  and  the  gossips  of  the  resort  felt  a 
real  pity  for  the  poor  youth  who  was  being,  as  they  said,  led  on 
to  be  jilted  in  the  end. 

The  affair  had  been  going  on  some  six  weeks  before  I  arrived,  and 
I  was  not  slow  in  coming  to  the  conclusion  that  Miss  Addie  meant 
business.  I  thought  it  pitiful  as  others  did,  but  from  a  different 
standpoint.  I  saw  the  once  famous  belle,  who  had  been  fished  for 
by  some  of  the  more  famous  men  of  the  day,  turned  angler,  and 
dropping  an  almost  naked  hook  before  the  nose  of  this  stupid  in 
heritor  of  a  million.  She  who  had  gone  idly  and  wantonly 
through  rich  fields  of  flowers,  now  on  a  barren  sand  stooped  to 
this  weed.  I  was  infinitely  amused  to  see  the  delicate,  fascinating 
way  in  which  she  approached  and  tempted,  without  appearing  to 
do  so,  her  proposed  prize,  and  I  wondered  how  far  Hamilton's 
selfishness  and  cunning  would  protect  him.  I  could  observe  that 
he  did  most  of  the  talking,  and  I  could  well  believe  that  she  was 
bending  her  imperious  impatience  to  a  wearied  hearing,  under  an 
air  of  intense  interest,  of  his  dull  stories  about  himself. 

In  the  midst  of  this  General  H.,  now  a  brilliant,  successful 
lawyer,  and  lately  a  distinguished  officer  in  the  Confederate  service, 
appeared  among  us,  and  became  the  devoted  of  Miss  Addie.  They 
were  old  friends,  and  poor  Hamilton  was  completely  cut  out.  The 
walks  and  rides  and  dances  once  his  were  now  the  property  of  that 
cool,  quiet,  impudent  fellow.  It  was  the  old  story  of  a  loan  of  a 
lover,  and  to  make  that  story  short  I  have  only  to  add  that  Hamil 
ton  wakened  to  find  himself  desperately,  blindly  in  love.  He 
could  not  sleep  nor  eat,  and  the  dreaded  symptoms  again  appeared. 
What  with  a  pain  in  his  heart  and  a  pain  in  his  back  the  poor  fel 
low  was  in  a  bad  way. 

I  have  that  in  my  countenance  that  induces  people  to  put  un 
protected  females  under  my  care  while  travelling  and  drives 
spoonies  to  making  me  their  confidant.  Hamilton  came  to  me 
with  his  grief. 

"  Pm  stuck,"  he  said,  "  I  am  stuck  for  that  gul,  and  there's 
no  mistake  about  it,  and  she  throws  me  over — throws  me  over  for 
thatreb." 

"  Did  you  ever  give  her  to  understand  your  feelings?  " 


HANDLED  GOODS.  47 

e<  Well,  no  ;  you  see  when  I  had  her  all  to  myself  I  was  ass 
enough  to  think  she  was  after  me.  Now  don't  laugh.  You  see 
I've  had  lots  of  guls  throwing  out  signals,  and  she's  a  little  old  and 
had  a  lively  time." 

"  Handled  goods  ?" 

"  Xow  don't.  You  see  there's  no  nonsense  about  that  gul ; 
she's  all  mind  and  gamy.  But  I  thought  she  was  in  chase,  and  I 
just  fooled  along  for  the  fun  of  it.  But  Lord,  Lord,  what  an  ass  a 
fellow  can  make  of  himself  when  he  thinks  he  isn't  an  ass  !  That 
fellow  comes,  and  she  tosses  me  over  like  an  old  glove.  I  tell  you 
I'm  in  a  bad  way,  and  that  blarsted  pain,  you  see,  is  after  me." 

"  See  here,  Porkus,  don't  be  more  of  an  ass  than  you  can  help. 
That  girl  thinks  more  of  you  this  minute  than  she  does  of  that 
ex-reb." 

"Oh  !  come  now;  don't  chaff  a  sick  fellow,"  he  cried,  but 
his  face  brightened  and  I  continued  : 

"  Yes,  she  is  a  sensible  woman,  and  has  known  a  good  deal  of 
the  human  race,  and  she  sees  that  you  are  a  good,  honest-hearted 
fello\v,  one  to  make  a  wife  happy,  while  she  regards  this  legal 
skyrocket  as  a  nice  fellow  to  flirt  with,  but  one  to  break  a  woman's 
heart  in  ninety  days." 

"  Did  she  tell  you  that  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,  but  I  can  see.  Xow  I  tell  you,  go  in  and 
make  love  to  her." 

"  I'd  as  soon  make  love  to  Lady  Macbeth — 

"  Nonsense  !  she  is  a  woman,  therefore  may  be  wooed.  She  is 
a  woman,  therefore  may  be  won.  I  tell  you  what,  now  you  go  to 
her  yonder,  she  is  reading  alone  ;  say  that  it  has  been  some  time 
since  you  have  had  the  pleasure  of  a  ride  ;  ask  her  to  permit 
you  to  escort  her  to  Fern  Falls.  As  you  ride  along,  tell  her  how 
happy  she  has  made  your  visit  to  the  Springs,  that  you  never  can 
forget  this  summer,  it  has  been  so  delightful.  If  she  takes  this 
kindly,  say  that  you  don't  know  how  you  can  be  contented  to  leave 
here  and  her  both,  and — " 

"  Stop  !  stop  !  don't  put  in  too  much  or  I'll  forget  every  word. 
I've  got  the  beginning,  and  it's  first-rate.  If  she  lets  me  say  that 
much,  hang  me  if  I  don't  bolt  it  all  out." 


48  HANDLED   GOODS. 

t '  Hold  hard,  don't  do  that  on  horseback,  it's  the  most  awkward 
place  to  pop  in  the  world.  If  you're  rejected  you  can't  get  away  ; 
if  you're  accepted  you  can't  embrace ;  horses  don't  understand 
that,  and  by  the  time  you  get  your  arm  around  her  the  animals 
pull  you  apart ;  and  if  you  attempt  to  kiss  you  are  joggled  up  and 
down  all  over  the  countenance,  kissing  the  nose  and  chin  more 
than  any  other  place." 

"  By  Jove  !  what  a  knowing  cuss  you  are  ;  I  never  thought  of 
that.'; 

"  Make  love  as  you  ride  along.  At  the  falls  you'll  have  to 
assist  her  to  dismount ;  give  her  a  little  squeeze  as  you  climb  down 
the  precipice  ;  give  one  squeeze  of  the  hand  to  every  jump  ;  when 
down  just  out  with  it ;  say  in  a  sentence,  *  Miss  Addie,  I  love  you — 
I  can't  live  without  you — will  you  be  mine?'  She  will  say  'no/ 
they  always  do.  But  don't  mind  that,  seize  her  hand — kiss  it — 
put  your  manly  arm  about  her  slender  waist  and  hold  on  till  she 
says  'yes/': 

"  Well,  I'll  try  it  on,  if  I  die  for  it." 

I  saw  him  approach  the  fair  Addie  ;  I  saw  the  sweet  smile  start 
from  her  beautiful  mouth  and  run  over  her  face  like  the  first  flush 
of  dawn,  and  that  afternoon  I  saw  them  ride  away  together.  The 
Confederate  luminary  undertook  to  put  her  on  her  horse,  but  she 
gracefully  waved  him  away  and  gave  her  slender  foot  to  my 
friend.  As  they  rode  off  together  I  heard  the  Confed.  deliver  a 
long,  low  whistle,  that  expressed  surprise— I  may  say  ama/ement. 
It  was  the  most  expressive  whistle  ever  whistled  by  an  ex- Confed 
erate  officer  and  an  immediate  legal  luminary. 

That  night  Hamilton  conducted  me  to  the  most  sequestered 
bench  on  the  lawn.  It  was  ve  y  late.  He  and  Miss  Addie  had 
been  pacing  the  main  walk  for  hours. 

"Well/'  I  said,  "how  did  it  work?" 

"First-rate;  but.  Lord,  how  I  did  tumble  through!  I  was 
stringhalted,  lame,  and  poll-eviled  all  the  way.  I  let  out  as  we 
rode  along  how  happy  she  had  made  me  ;  it  was  informal,  husky ; 
I  seemed  to  have  a  frog  in  my  throat,  and  my  heart  thumped  like 
a  sledge-hammer.  I  had  to  say  it  twice,  and  then  she  turned  and 
looked  at  me  in  such  a  curious  way  I  blushed  ;;!!  over.  Then 


HANDLED   GOODS.  49 

she  gave  me  a  lecture  two  miles  in  length  on  the  idle,  worthless 
life  I  was  leading — what  I  might  do  with  my  great  wealth.  I 
wanted  to  tell  her  it  was  all  because  of  her.  But  I  did  get  in  a 
good  thing,  all  my  own.  I  told  her  a  fellow  must  have  somebody 
to  help  him  do  the  right  thing,  a  lovely,  superior  woman,  and 
I  never  had  anybody,  and  she  said  she  felt  sorry  for  me.  I 
tell  you,  old  fellow,  she's  a  noble  creature,  and  made  me  feel 
small." 

"Well?" 

"I  helped  her  down  and  thought  Fd  squeeze  her  hand,  but 
I  hadn't  the  pluck.  I  did  going  down  the  rocks,  but  Caesar 
Augustus  !  what  was  the  use  ?  Her  little  hand  lay  in  mine  cold 
and  soft  as  a  snow-flake,  and  she  looked  as  unconscious  as  a  gate 
post.  We  dawdled  about  there,  climbing  rocks  and  gathering 
stuff,  weedy  stuff,  dirty  and  damp,  that  I  had  to  put  in  my  pock 
ets  for  her.  At  last,  in  a  very  wild  place,  I  just  turned  on  her 
and  said,  husky  and  jerky  again,  *  Miss  Addie,  would  you  mind 
taking  a  rough  fellow  in  hand  and  show  him  how  to  do  the  right 
thing  ? '  She  was  giving  me  a  long,  snaky  weed  that  she  said  was 
a  beautiful  specimen,  and  I  dropped  it  and  seized  her  hand. 
Good  Lord  !  but  I  was  scared.  She  jerked  away  and  colored  up 
and  said,  '  Mr.  Porkus  ! '  as  if  she  was  going  to  ask  me  what  I  had 
to  say  why  sentence  of  death  should  not  be  passed  there  and  then, 
but  she  didn't,  and  I  stood  there  like  a  sick  calf  in  a  thunder 
storm.  Then  she  turned  and  sat  down  on  a  rock,  and  for  a  devil 
of  a  time  looked  at  the  tumbling  waters,  pulling  a  weed  to  pieces. 
Then  she  looked  up  at  me  with  a  sad  sort  of  smile  and  said  : 

"  'Mr.  Porkus,  am  I  to  understand  that  you  are  serious  in  all 
this,  and  really  love  me? ' 

"I  was  down  by  her  side  in  a  second  and  I  seized  her  hand, 
and,  Lord,  how  I  did  go  on.  She  kept  looking  at  the  water,  and 
I  girdled  her  without  knowing  it.  I  don't  know  what  happened, 
only  she .  brought  me  up  at  last  by  saying,  '  There,  there,  I  hear 
people  coming  down  the  rocks ;  behave  yourself  and  I  will  do  the 
best  I  can  to  make  you  a  good  man  and  happy  one.'  But  she  was 
cool,  I  tell  you/' 

"Handled  goods,  Porkus." 


50  HANDLED   GOODS. 

"Now  look  here,  old  fellow,  you  don't  want  to  quarrel  with 
me,  and  that's  chaff  on  the  raw." 

"No,  my  dear  fellow,  on  the  contrary,  I  congratulate  you; 
you  have  won  the  most  beautiful  and  the  noblest  woman  in 
Virginia.  Your  rival,  the  reb  and  immediate  luminary,  went  off 
to  the  White  Sulphur  after  you  left,  a  good  deal  in  love  and 
deeper  in  liquor. 


AUNT  HETTY. 

NOVEL   V. 

NATIONAL  traits  in  their  popular  acceptation  are  national 
superstitions.  Humanity  is  about  the  same  the  world  over,  and 
while  the  earth  has  its  uniformity  with  slight  differences  in 
mountain  and  plain,  so  its  products  are  very  nearly  alike.  The 
rattlesnake  of  the  temperate  zone  is  the  cobra  of  the  torrid,  and 
that  strange  combination  set  on  end  and  called  man  may  be  black 
hi  Africa,  yellow  in  Asia,  copper-tinted  in  America,  and  white  in 
Europe,  but  he  is  man  all  the  same,  having  reason  and  like  appe 
tites.  The  boa  of  India  is  larger  than  the  black-snake  of  America, 
but  the  traits  are  about  the  same,  and  so  with  men  of  different 
climes. 

For  ages  we  have  had  the  Englishman  depicted  in  the  popular 
mind  as  a  beef-eater,  hearty,  bluff,  and  brave.  The  Frenchman 
appears  as  a  thin,  excitable,  dark-haired  consumer  of  frogs.  The 
witty,  roystering.  combative  Irishman  of  the  stage  is  the  Irishman 
of  life,  while  we  Americans  are  Yankees  with  a  nasal  twang,  and 
ready  at  any  moment  to  turn  our  grandmother's  bones  into  but 
tons.  Yet  the  practical  observer  looks  in  vain  through  England 
for  the  blond  beef-eater  ;  through  France  for  the  man  who  cooks 
frogs  and  lives  in  an  excited  state  of  sacre  lieu.  The  Irish  may 
be  a  rather  combative  people  under  an  oppression  that  would  stir 
Holland  to  a  revolt,  but  the  stage  Irishman  has  an  exceptional  ex 
istence  in  real  life,  while  the  New  Englanders  can  show,  in  public 
charities,  as  much  generous  impulse  as  any  people  on  earth. 

This  is  written  because  of  all  humanity  the  negro  has  been 
most  clearly  defined  as  possessed  of  certain  traits  that  distinguish 
the  race  as  a  separate  and  distinct  creation  from  the  rest  of  human 
ity.  This  comes  mainly  from  writers  of  fiction.  As  Cooper  cre 
ated  the  noble  red-man,  Bret  Harte  the  heathen  Chinee,  so  Mrs. 
Stowe  and  others  have  given  us  the  negro.  To  the  critic  who 


52  AUNT  HETTY. 

coolly  analyzes  plots  and  characters,  this  building  up  of  the  negro> 
especially  as  a  slave,  is  extremely  ludicrous.  It  presents  the 
strongest  possible  argument  in  favor  of  slavery.  For  dramatic 
effect  the  masters  are  presented  to  us  as  monsters  of  cruel  iniquity, 
and  the  poor  slaves  as  wonderful  specimens  of  patient,  Christian 
goodness.  If  this  is  the  result  of  human  servitude,  such  a  state 
has  done  more  for  the  sway  of  Christ  than  all  the  gospel  teachings 
to  a  fallen  race  that  ever  were  put  to  record.  For  one  Uncle  Tom 
we  can  well  condone  a  hundred  Legrees. 

This  is  written  not  as  an  essay,  but  to  introduce  a  strange  char 
acter,  deeply  impressed  on  the  mind  of  the  writer ;  a  negro 
woman,  but  so  different  from  the  accepted  negro  that  to  win  belief 
I  have  had  to  call  attention  to  some  errors  of  superstition  that 
forbid  credence.  When  quite  young  I  came  to  know  Aunt  Hetty, 
and  had  for  her  a  feeling  of  mingled  fear  and  affection  difficult  to 
understand  and  put  in  harmony.  She  was  old,  very  old,  when  I 
knew  her,  I  being  then  a  boy,  but  to  the  last  she  was  erect,  vigor 
ous,  and  positive.  When  so  old  that  her  hair  was  white,  and  her 
dimmed  eyes  called  for  spectacles,  she  taught  herself  to  read,  that 
she  might  have  her  Bible  to  herself,  and  all  that  Bible  taught  she 
construed  into  lessons  that  might  have  shamed  many  a  learned 
theologian.  She  found  no  difficulty  in  harmonizing  the  God  of 
vengeance  with  the  Christ  of  love,  and  while  tender  and  loving  to 
the  little  ones  left  to  her  care,  she  was  as  stern  as  fate  in  the  pun 
ishment  of  youthful  wrong- doing.  The  keen  insight  of  youthful 
character  she  possessed  gave  her  a  knowledge  of  our  wicked  ways, 
that  seemed  to  us  miraculous.  There  was  no  orchard  robbed,  no 
hen-house  despoiled,  no  swimming  on  Sundays  that  old  Aunt  Hetty 
did  not  know  of,  and  she  could  single  out  the  leader  with  an  un 
erring  certainty  that  made  our  vigorous  lying  of  no  avail. 

There  was  a  tradition,  to  the  effect  that  Aunt  Hetty  was  an 
African  princess,  afloat,  and,  in  our  youthful  eyes,  she  certainly 
had  the  ways  of  one.  Tall,  slender,  with  a  skin  as  black  as  ever 
Africa  produced,  she  had  a  quiet  dignity  of  movement  that  im 
pressed  itself  upon  all.  She  had  not  only  taught  herself  to  read, 
but  she  had  trained  her  tongue  to  a  better  use  of  the  English 
language  than  shown  by  many  of  her  superiors,  white  and  edu 
cated  though  they  were. 


AUXT  HETTY.  53 

In  all  self-training  Aunt  Hetty  had  one  model  she  studied  and 
imitated,  and  that  was  her  old  master,  Colonel  Jacob  Parnne.  The 
individuality  of  this  old  soldier  of  the  Revolution  was  so  marked 
and  strong  that  no  one  could  come  within  its  range  without  feeling 
its  influence.  Of  Huguenot  blood  he  was  by  birth  and  through 
generations  a  French  Puritan.  His  keen,  dark  eyes,  prominent 
Roman  nose,  and  no  less  prominent  chin,  with  his  spare,  upright 
figure,  indicated  that  he  was  a  man  who  walked  with  God,  and 
walked  in  a  very  upright  and  soldierly  manner.  There  were  with 
him  no  questions  of  morality  and  religion.  They  had  all  been 
ended,  judgment  rendered,  and  the  book  closed  when  John  Calvin 
announced  the  decisions  of  the  Lord. 

Entering  the  service  as  a  private  when  the  colonies  rebelled 
against  the  mother  country,  he  fought  his  way  up,  through  all  the 
great  battles,  to  the  rank  of  Colonel. 

Colonel  Jacob  Parnne's  reasons  for  this  patriotic  service  were 
strictly  private  and  his  own.  The  political  aspect  of  the  quarrel 
did  not  interest  him.  The  taxation  without  representation  and 
all  the  list  of  other  grievances  he  treated  with  contempt  but  as 
his  grandfather  had  fled  from  France  rather  than  submit  to  the 
rule  of  the  Catholic  Church,  he  regarded  the  Church  of  England 
as  the  bastard  offspring  of  what  he  called  the  "  scarlet  woman  of 
Rome,"  and  against  the  Established  Church  he  carried  on  the  war. 
As  he  found  no  one  to  sympathize  with  him  in  this  view  of  the 
contest,  he  felt  that  he  alone  was  the  instrument  of  God  to  carry 
on  the  war. 

Next  to  Calvin  the  old  Colonel  believed  in  George  Washington. 
The  intense  seriousness  of  the  rebel  General,  with  the  imposing 
length  of  his  figure,  impressed  his  admirer  to  such  an  extent,  that 
even  the  great  Virginian's  profanity  could  not  shake  his  confidence. 
On  the  contrary,  through  one  of  those  subtle  processes  of  mind 
common  where  the  will  is  the  principal  agent  in  forming  belief, 
General  Washington's  profanity  strengthened  the  Colonel's  faith. 

He  sat  one  day,  for  example,  on  a  pile  of  rails  binding  up  a 
wound  with  a  handkerchief,  when,  in  the  road  near  him.  Wash 
ington  and  Lee  met,  and  that  historical  interview,  when  the  war 
riors  cursed  each  other  like  fishwives,  occurred.  "He  was  a 


54  AUNT  HETTY. 

traitor,  sir,"  said  the  Colonel,  recounting  the  event,  and  referring 
to  Lee,  "and  deserved  the  curse  God  gave  him  through  the 
mouth  of  General  Washington."  The  form  of  the  anathema, 
however,  was  not  of  the  sort  one  would  look  for  in  Holy  Writ. 

After  the  war  the  Colonel  settled  upon  the  bank  of  the  Ohio. 
There  he  "built  himself  a  huge  stone  house,  and  for  many  years  lived 
in  a  gloomy  sort  of  content,  praying  morning,  noon,  and  night,  and 
when  not  looking  after  his  farming  interest,  steadily  reading  his 
Bible.  He  gave  his  pension  to  a  Presbyterian  parson  and  all  his 
time  to  the  Lord. 

Aunt  Hetty  was  a  house  servant  and  a  favorite  of  the  old 
Colonel,  for  while  deeply  religious,  she  differed  from  the  other 
servants  in  being  very  quiet  in  its  expression.  The  master,  a 
taciturn  man  himself,  seemed  to  recognize  in  this  dignified,  seldom- 
speaking  woman  the  sort  of  faith  that  moved  his  own  soul.  Per 
haps  it  was  this  gained  for  her  more  consideration  than  was 
awarded  the  other  slaves.  No  whip  ever  touched  Aunt  Hetty's 
back.  Even  the  overseer,  a  huge  brute  as  an  overseer  was  forced 
to  be,  spoke  to  this  strange  woman  in  a  respectful  manner.  The 
old  housekeeper  had  but  one  trouble,  and  that  was  her  grandson, 
the  only  living  creature  claiming  kinship  to  her,  and  all  the  love 
of  the  strong  woman  went  out  to  this  boy.  He  had  white  blood 
in  him  and  an  exceedingly  wayward  nature.  The  real  trouble 
lay  in  the  fact  that  the  grandmother  was  so  anxious  to  have  this 
pet  of  hers  well  trained  that  she  over-trained  him.  The  owner 
had  no  need  to  interfere  for  the  purpose  of  punishing  the  boy. 
The  whippings  adminis:ered  to  the  youth  were  so  frequent  and 
severe  that  the  Colonel's  wife,  in  very  pity,  would,  at  times,  inter 
fere.  When  the  lad  ran  away  and  spent  a  day  in  the  woods,  as  he 
did  frequently,  he  was  certain  on  his  return  to  hang  about  the 
premises  until  he  could  see  his  kind  protector,  and  then  run  to 
claim  her  interference. 

The  time  came  when  this  kind  protector  could  be  found  no 
longer  about  the  sombre  stone  house.  The  stately  old  mother  of 
ten  children  passed  away.  With  thin,  matronly  hands  folded 
across  her  meek  breast,  she  was  solemnly  laid  to  rest  with  five  of 
her  offspring,  near  the  place,  and  the  old  Colonel  found  himself 


AUNT  HETTY.  55 

alone,  for  the  other  five  had  grown  up,  married,  and  gone  to  make 
homes  of  their  own. 

The  believer  in  Calvin  and  Calvin's  God  found  it  not  good  to  be 
alone,  and  he  called  in  the  minister  and  elders  to  advise  as  to  the 
propriety  of  his  taking  another  partner  to  his  house.  The  grave 
matter  was,  with  much  prayer,  solemnly  discussed,  and  the  con 
clusion  arrived  at  that  it  would  be  well  for  the  old  soldier  to 
console  his  remaining  days  on  earth  with  a  suitable  helpmate. 
Had  the  Colonel  confided  to  this  little  council  in  the  Lord  the 
name  of  the  woman  he  had  selected,  probably  the  council  would 
not  have  been  so  unanimous.  They  thought,  of  course,  that  some 
staid  elderly  dame  would  be  chosen,  but  the  old  man,  like  unto 
any  other  aged  widower,  saw  to  his  liking  a  little  girl  scarcely  out 
of  her  teens,  and,  with  the  recognized  Biblical  example  of  the 
Hebrew  patriarchs  before  him,  had  authority  for  his  choice. 

The  Widow  Bentley,  relict  of  the  Hon.  Richard  Bentley,  had 
come  to  the  West  with  her  only  daughter  to  occupy  the  one  piece 
of  property  the  Hon.  Virginian  of  Richmond  had  spared  from  his 
drinking  and  gambling  to  his  family.  They  were  very  poor  and 
very  proud.  The  fall  from  the  gay  life  of  luxury  at  Richmond  to 
the  log-cabin  on  the  Ohio,  with  all  the  privations  of  such  a  life, 
was  hard  on  mother  and  daughter,  so  hard  that  when  the  Colonel, 
with  dignified  grace,  offered  himself  as  a  husband  to  the  little  girl, 
it  was  a  proposition  to  lift  them  from  indigence  to  wealth  again. 
There  were  tears  shed  over  the  consideration,  but  they  were  shed 
in  private.  The  aged  wooer  saw  only  smiles  as  his  offer  was 
accepted. 

The  rude  little  church  of  God  saw  the  sacrifice  that  the  min 
ister  sanctified.  The  union  of  May  and  December  received  in  this 
way  the  sanction  of  the  border  community,  that,  wild  and  rough 
in  many  respects,  had  a  deep  religious  feeling  of  helpfulness  lying 
under  its  rude  structure,  that  saw  in  the  old  Colonel's  choice  only 
a  special  providence  to  the  poor  widow  and  orphan. 

Both  the  recipients,  however,  awakened  to  the  fact  that  the 
blessing  was  not  an  unmixed  good.  The  same  rigid  economy  that 
had  marked  the  old  soldier  through  life,  the  economy  that  made 
him  live  on  the  poor,  uncertain  pay  of  the  Continental  Army  until 


56  AUNT  HETTY. 

a  property,  east  of  the  mountains,  left  him  by  his  father  grew  into 
a  valuable  estate,  reigned  in  all  its  parsimony  at  his  house.  The 
widow  and  daughter  looked  want  in  the  face  from  the  door  of  their 
poor  cabin,  and  privation  followed  them  to  the  lonely  stone  mansion. 

The  worse  feature,  nevertheless,  was  found  in  Aunt  Hetty.  She 
had  been  for  years  housekeeper,  and,  during  the  widower-hood  of 
her  master,  mistress  of  the  mansion.  Her  good  sense,  and  she 
had  more  of  that  than  all  the  rest  combined,  would  have  dictated 
a  quiet  resignation  of  her  post,  but  the  Colonel  regarded  his  new 
wife  as  a  mere  child — a  fact,  by  the  bye— and  would  listen  to  noth 
ing  of  the  sort.  It  was  decreed  that  Aunt  Hetty  should  continue 
to  carry  the  keys  and  be  responsible  for  the  housekeeping  A 
rigid  disciplinarian,  his  orders  were  law,  and  the  poor  mother, 
making  a  fierce  fight  for  her  daughter's  rights,  brought  matters  to 
a  crisis  that  terminated  the  struggle.  Aunt  Hetty  was  disposed 
to  yield  to  the  young  wife,  but  she  conceived  a  fierce  hatred  for 
the  widow.  SheVent  a  little  too  far  one  day  and  gave  the  poor 
woman  treatment  that,  from  a  negro,  was  insult.  There  is  some 
thing  in  the  subtle  insolence  of  the  slave  that  is  maddening,  and 
mother  and  daughter,  in  hot  wrath,  ordered  Aunt  Hetty  to  be 
whipped  by  the  overseer. 

Unfortunately  this  happened  in  the  absence  of  the  Colonel. 
The  poor  woman  had  so  managed  through  her  life  of  unrequited 
toil  as  to  escape  the  lash.  She  submitted  in  silence.  The  over 
seer,  who  hated  her,  did  his  brutal  business  with  a  will,  and  the 
result  was  that  Aunt  Hetty  was  carried  to  her  quarters  insensible, 
and  when  her  master  returned  he  found  her  delirious  from  fever. 
From  this  delirium  the  old  Colonel  gathered  an  intimation  of 
what  had  occurred.  He  brought  forward  the  overseer,  got  the 
truth,  and  drove  his  respected  mother-in-law  from  the  house.  He 
had  the  one  grace  to  give  her  enough  money  to  make  her  way  to 
Richmond. 

Aunt  Hetty  suffered  in  soul  and  body  from  the  cruel  torture  to 
which  she  had  been  subjected,  but  her  real  danger  came  in  the 
shape  of  a  doctor,  who  bled,  purged,  and  blistered  the  poor  creat 
ure  until  there  was  scarcely  any  life  left  her.  But  her  strong 
physique  brought  her  through,  and  in  a  few  weeks  she  returned 


AUNT  HETTY.  57 

to  her  duties  as  housekeeper.  Whether  the  descendant  of  a  king 
ly  line  or  not,  she  had  the  true  instincts  of  a  slave,  and,  while  she 
suffered  keenly  the  punishment  inflicted,  she  returned  humbled 
to  her  work,  and  from  that  out  tempered  her  service  with  a  con 
sideration  for  her  young  mistress  never  shown  before.  The  poor 
wife  g<  »t  little  comfort  from  this.  The  loss  of  her  mother  made 
life  doubly  miserable.  The  dreary  monotony  of  the  gloomy  house 
fell  upon  her  like  a  pall.  She  seemed  buried  alive,  and  the  con 
tinuous  religious  exercises  appeared  to  her  prayers  for  the  dead. 
Preachers,  elders,  and  deacons  came  and  went,  and  the  stately  old 
Colonel  took  no  note  of  time  in  his  meditations  on  eternity,  and 
little  of  the  so-called  life  save  to  keep  a  keen  eye  to  the  economi 
cal  expenditures  of  the  household. 

The  young  wife  looked  up  to  her  husband  in  fear.  She  heard 
his  regular  military  step  as  he  came  with  a  shudder,  and  as  he 
left  with  a  sense  of  relief.  While  he  was  impressively  polite, 
there  was  no  tenderness  in  h:s  voice,  no  gentleness  in  his  manner. 
He  walked  so  much  with  God  that  he  had  no  time  for  walks  with 
his  wife. 

An  event  soon  occurred  that  turned  the  wife's  fear  into  posi 
tive  aversion.  One  summer  day  there  appeared  a  man  at  the 
mansion  who  seemed  to  bring  the  atmosphere  and  sunlight  of  an 
other  world  to  the  sombre  stone  house.  He  came  unexpectedly, 
for  mails  at  that  day  were  few  and  far  between,  and  when  Captain 
Philip  Parnne  walked  in  even  the  old  Colonel,  his  uncle,  gave  a 
look  of  surprise.  In  his  formal  fashion  he  made  the  young  man 
welcome  as  he  presented  him  to  his  wife. 

The  wife  saw  before  her  as  handsome  a  specimen  of  physical 
perfection  as  ever  nature  sat  on  end  and  endowed  with  human 
impulses.  He  had  the  Parnne  features  greatly  improved.  His 
dark  eyes  were  larger  and  milder  ;  his  Bonian  nose  subdued  to 
something  less  than  an  eagle's  beak,  while  his  marked  ch'n  made 
only  a  foundation  to  his  well-formed  head  where  the  wealth  of 
chestnut  hair  collected  in  a  queue  behind  gave  a  grace  unknown  to 
his  elders.  Six  feet  in  height,  of  spare  figure,  he  balanced  a  pair 
of  broad  shoulders  above  his  narrow  hips  with  such  ease  that  every 
movement  was  modulated  and  graceful. 


58  AUNT  HETTY. 

Captain  Phil.  Parnne  was  on  the  best  possible  terms  with  him 
self  and  the  world,  for  he  was  in  superb  health.  His  courage,  like 
his  stomach,  was  so  perfect  that  he  did  not  know  that  it  existed. 
He  had,  in  consequence,  no  fears  to  consult  and  no  favors  to  solicit. 
Good  natured  from  habit,  he  pleased  his  associates,  who  termed  him 
a  good  fellow  without  calling  for  any  real  kindness  that  would 
have  disturbed  his  comfort.  These  surface  readers  would  have 
been  astonished  to  learn  that  their  good  fellow  was  as  selfish  a  man 
as  ever  na  ure  created.  A  close  observer  would  have  read  in  his 
face  the  fact  that  he  had  all  the  selfishness  Nature  creates  into  in 
iquity  so  well  defined  that  nothing  but  circumstances  saved  him 
from  being  a  recognized  ciiminal. 

It  was  the  fashion  of  the  day,  got  from  the  mother  country, 
where  soldiers  and  statesmen  were  alike  profligate,  for  our  promi 
nent  men  to  be  scoffers  of  religion  and  debauchees  in  social  life. 
Phil.  Parnne  partook  of  this  condition.  He  had  many  vices,  all  of 
which  were  then  consid  red  gentlemanly,  and  he  had  little  princi 
ple  and  less  conscience  to  offer  any  restraint.  His  very  visit  to 
his  uncle's  house  and  his  stay  there  came  of  this  lack  of  integrity. 

Aaron  Burr,  with  a  few  men  on  a  raft,  floating  down  the  Ohio, 
had  alarmed  the  whole  country.  We  know  now  that  this  alarm 
came  from  an  affected  anxiety  on  the  part  of  Tom  Jefferson,  who 
saw  in  the  expedition  an  opportunity  to  rid  himself  of  a  dangerous 
rival.  Be  that  as  it  might,  Captain  PhiL  Parnne,  IT.  S.  A.,  was 
sent  in  pursuit  of  the  traitor.  Now  it  happened  that  Aaron  Burr 
was  one  of  Captain  Parnne's  most  intimate  friends,  and  while  he 
(Phil.)  kept  himself  clear  of  Burr's  bold  intrigues  he  was  not  in 
clined  to  make  himself  disagreeable.  To  this  end  he  tied  his  boat 
to  the  shore,  below  his  uncle's  house,  and  quietly  made  a  visit  long 
enough  to  enable  Burr  to  escape  the  arrest  the  Government  had 
ordered. 

The  noble  Captain  expected  to  find  the  stay  at  his  uncle's 
house  an  unmitigated  bore.  The  sight  of  his  youthful  aunt  brought 
a  change  in  that  respect.  He  saw  before  him  a  beautiful  woman, 
with  a  child  like,  trusting  face,  from  whose  deep  blue  eyes  came  a 
sad,  wistful  expression  that  told  of  her  unhappy  life.  There  are 
some  men  who  seem  born  without  mothers,  a  A-d  bred  to  manhood 


AUNT  HETTY.  59 

without  sisters.  Captain  Phil.  Parnne  was  of  this  sort,  and  from 
the  first  moment  of  his  introduction  he  saw  a  means  by  which  he 
could  alleviate  the  monotony  of  his  visit. 

Another  discovery  dawned  upon  our  Captain,  that  was  that  he 
bid  fair  to  starve  upon  the  meagre  allowance  of  his  uncle's  table. 
To  remedy  this  he  not  only  brought  up  stores  from  the  Government 
boat,  but  seizing  his  gun  brought  in  from  hunting  enough  to  rem 
edy  the  unpleasant  deficit.  He  was  returning  from  gunning  one 
day,  when  he  encountered  his  aunt  on  her  way  across  the  fields  and 
through  the  woods  to  a  friendly  visit  at  a  neighbor's.  He  turned 
and  escorted  her  to  her  destination.  Xot  only  that,  but  under 
the  plea  that  such  excursions  alone  were  dangerous,  he  learned 
the  hour  of  her  return  and  accompanied  her  home.  These  visits 
became  singularly  frequent,  and  as  singularly  delightful  to  both 
parties.  AVhile  in  the  house  the  old  Colonel  was  much  given  to 
religious  disquisitions,  to  which  the  infidel  nephew  had  to  listen  with 
profound  attention.  Away  from  this  restraint  the  Captain  and  the 
fair  wife  gave  free  rein  to  merry  talk  that  to  her  was  simply  delicious. 

To  all  this  the  Colonel  was  blind.  Xot  so,  however,  another 
pair  of  eyes  that  looked  out  from  a  shrewd,  thoughtful  mind.  Aunt 
Hetty  regarded  the  conduct  of  the  two  with  great  suspicion  and 
no  favor.  She  knew  the  wrong  impending,  but,  strange  to  say, 
instead  of  moving  to  expose  it,  did  all  in  her  power  to  conceal  it.  To 
understand  this  it  is  necessary  to  know  Aunt  Hetty's  motive.  She 
fairly  worshipped  her  master,  and  with  her  pride  of  family,  so  com 
mon  to  household  slaves,  would  have  submitted  to  any  torture 
rather  than  have  had  any  disgrace  come  to  the  house.  It  was  not 
only  the  stain  from  which  she  shrank,  but  the  pain  and  humilia 
tion  that  would  fall  upon  her  idol,  the  Colonel. 

If  she  had  any  doubt  as  to  what  had  occurred,  that  „"  ?ubt  was 
solved  by  her  grandson,  who,  still  given  to  wild  excursion  came  in 
one  day  out  of  breath  and  with  stretched  eyes,  and  tersely  told  to 
Aunt  Hetty  what  he  had  seen.  The  revelation  had  scarcely  fallen 
from  his  lips  before  Aunt  Hetty,  seizing  him  by  the  wool  of  his 
head,  and  shaking  and  pounding  the  poor  boy  until  he  was  dazed, 
told  him  that  if"  he  ever  dared  utter  such  a  lie  aga  n  she  would 
have  the  overseer  whip  him  to  death. 


60  AUNT  HETTY. 

The  autumn-time  wore  on  and  the  forest  livery  of  green 
was  changing  to  the  hectic  hue  that  told  of  coming  winter,  when 
one  still  hazy  afternoon  of  the  Indian  Summer  the  report  _ef  a 
mountain  howitzer  was  heard  up  the  ri\er,  and  from  the  porch  of 
the  Colonel's  house  the  family  saw  a  boat — a  broad- horn  it  was 
called — sweep  round  the  bend.  Upon  the  deck  stood  a  group  of 
officers,  while  the  long  oars  were  worked  by  soldiers.  The  b  at 
was  rounded  to  and  tied  immediately  below  the  house,  and  three 
officers  in  full  dress  landed  and  ascended  the  long  hill  to  the 
house. 

Captain  Phil.  Parnne's  self -granted  leave  of  absence  was  at  an 
end.  Another  army  numbering  sixty  men  was  in  pursuit  of 
Aaron  Burr.  There  was  no  excuse  left  for  delaying  immediate 
pursuit,  and  Captain  Phil,  felt  no  reluctance  to  moving,  for  he  not 
only  knew  that  his  friend  Burr  was  beyond  pursuit,  but  was  weary 
of  a  dalliance  that  had  passed  from  smiles  to  tears.  The  poor 
woman  had  awakened  from  her  guilty  dream  to  a  frightened 
consciousness  of  wrong  that  brought  home  to  the  handsome  lover 
the  fact  that  he  was  paying  more  for  the  gratification  of  his  wicked 
passion  than  it  had  been  worth.  Fearing  a  scene  at  the  last 
interview  from  her  hysterical  condition,  he  sought  to  have  it  in 
private.  To  this  end,  the  day  after  the  arrival  of  the  troops, 
he  shouldered  his  rifle  and  started  for  a  last  hunt,  and  she,  under 
standing  this,  followed  him  under  pretence  of  a  visit. 

They  met  in  the  wood  but  too  well  known  to  both,  and 
immediately  the  poor  creature  threw  herself  with  a  piteous  cry 
into  the  arms  of  her  lover.  He  tried  in  vain  to  soothe  and  quiet 
her,  and  failing  in  this  would  have  given  more  than  he  was  worth 
to  be  rid  of  what  he  had  so  anxiously  sought  and  obtained. 

'•'Oh,  take  me  with  you,  Philip,"  she  wailed  ;  "I  shall  die, 
I  shall  die/' 

' i  Come  now,  little  one,"  he  cried,  "  don't  be  silly.  I  cannot 
take  you,  not  now  at  least,  but  I  will  return  in  a  few  weeks 
and  then — 

Captain  Phil,  paused  suddenly  and  threw  the  woman  from 
him  so  quickly,  and  with  such  violence,  that  she  fe'.l  with  a  cry. 
He  had  happened  to  look  up,  and  saw  in  the  oak  immediately 


AUNT  HETTY.  61 

above  him  a  pair  of  bright  eyes  that  belonged  to  the  half- 
hidden  figure  of  Aunt  Hetty's  grandson.  Seizing  his  rifle  that 
he  had  leaned  against  the  trunk  of  the  tree  he  brought  it  to  his 
shoulder.  The  poor  woman,  taking  in  the  situation  at  a  glance, 
spiung  to  her  feet  and  caught  her  lover's  arm  as  she  cried  : 

"  Oh,  don'r,  Phil.,  for  God's  sake,,  don't/' 

He  lowered  the  gun. 

"  Come  do  AH,  you  scoundrel,  come  down." 

The  boy  slid  to  the  ground  and  stood  trembling  before  the 
two. 

"  Xow  go  on  to  your  visit,*'  he  continued  to  the  woman. 

"  But  you  won't  hurt  him,  Phil?  " 

"That  depends  on  his  hurting  us,  but  you  must  hurry,"  and 
seeing  her  hesitation  he  added  to  the  boy  :  "Get  home,  you 
damned  idiot,  get  home.'" 

Satisfied  with  this,  the  two,  mistress  and  slave,  started  in  oppo 
site  directions. 

The  path  on  which  Captain  Parnne  stood  ran  straight  in  view 
to  him  for  nearly  a  hundred  yards.  He  was  not,  however,  at  the 
centre.  The  woman  had  the  shorter  space  to  travel  before  reach 
ing  the  turn,  but  she  staggered  on  slowly.  The  boy  had  the  longer 
distance,  but  he  almost  ran. 

The  Captain,  gun  in  hand,  watched  his  love.  He  saw  her 
disappear  behind. the  bushes,  and  turne-1  in  time  to  see  the  boy 
just  at  the  end  of  the  path.  Throwing  up  his  rifle,  he  fired 
instantly.  The  whip-like  report  rang  out,  a  sL  nder  stream  of 
smoke  spurted  from  the  muzzle,  and  the  poor  boy,  throwing  up 
his  arms,  without  a  cry,  seemed  to  leap  into  the  gully  ahead,  from 
which  the  path  turned  to  the  right. 

The  Captain  walked  t  >  the  point  where  the  woman  had  disap 
peared  and  saw  her  yet  wending  her  way.  Then  he  returned  and 
looked  down  the  ravine  into  which  the  murdered  boy  had  fallen. 
He  saw  the  body  hanging  across  a  bent  sapling.  Descending 
the  steep  declivity,  holding  to  shrubs  and  roots,  he  removed 
all  traces  of  the  fall.  Then  pulling  the  body  from  over  the  bend 
ing  sapl  ng,  muttered  "  That  will  do,"  and  continued  his  hunt. 

Some  hours  afterwards,  returning  to  the  house,  our  Captain 


62  AUNT  HETTY. 

coolly  informed  his  uncle  that  he  had  accidentally  shot  one  of  his 
negroes. 

The  old  soldier  gazed  at  him  from  under  his  shaggy  eyebrows 
and  said  : 

"  How  could  that  happen  ?  " 

"  Stupidly  enough.  I  heard  a  breaking  of  brush  in  a  ravine 
below  me,  and  thinking  it  a  deer,  fired  at  the  object  I  indistinctly 
saw,  and  killed  that  boy  whose  life  seemed  to  be  spent  in  larking 
through  the  woods." 

"Yes,"  said  the  Colonel,  "and  I  expected  him  to  come  to 
such  an  end  ;  where  is  the  body?" 

"  If  you  will  give  me  a  couple  of  men  I  will  show  them,"  said 
the  Captain,  and  the  order  was  given. 

Aunt  Hetty  had  heard  all  this  ;  a  shudder  passed  through  her 
frame,  and  a  sharp  glance  came  from  her  keen  eyes,  but  she  said 
nothing.  Clamping  her  teeth  together,  she  even  gave  the  order 
for  the  improvised  pall  bearers.  What  agony  the  poor  creature 
suffered  was  never  known,  for  she  never  gave  it  sound.  When 
the  limp  remains  of  all  she  had  on  earth  was  carried  in,  her  grief 
was  either  under  too  strong  control  or  too  deep  for  tears.  She 
neither  wept  nor  wrung  her  poor  labor-hardened  hands — those 
humble,  motherly  hands  that  had  caressed  and  punished  this 
sole  recipient  of  all  her  love  and  care.  There  was  a  look  in  her 
eyes,  however,  that,  had  the  Captain  noticed,  would  at  least  have 
made  him  feel  uneasy. 

Under  the  Colonel's  orders,  the  body  was  laid  on  sheet-covered 
boards  in  the  hall  until  a  coffin  could  be  procured  and  a  minister 
brought  to  render  the  last  rites  to  the  dead. 

The  Captain  had  his  luggage  carried  to  the  boat  without  wait 
ing  for  his  aunt's  return  to  take  his  leave.  It  was  late  when  she 
came.  As  Mrs.  Parnne  left  the  Captain,  it  happened  that  the 
wind  wa,s  blowing  from  her  towards  the  fatal  spot,  so  that  she 
did  not  hear  the  crack  of  the  rifle  that  did  the  fatal  work.  She 
was  only  troubled  by  the  thought  of  the  exposure  that  might 
follow  the  boy's  return.  Anxious  about  this  and  this  alone,  she 
lingered  at  the  neighbor's  until  the  last  moment,  and  then  re 
turned  in  ignorance  of  what  had  occurred. 


AUNT  HETTY.  63 

The  sun  was  sinking  in  the  hazy  west,  and  shadows  had 
gathered  in  that  gloomy  hall  when  she  entered.  She  gave  one 
look  at  the  dead,  and  then,  without  a  sound,  fell  to  the  floor. 

Aunt  Hetty  would  have  warned  her  had  she  dreamed  that  the 
guilty  wife  was  unaware  of  the  murder.  Her  keen  sense  had 
comprehended  the  situation,  but  she  had  included  one  too  many 
in  the  crime.  As  it  was,  she  hastily  seized  her  mistress  in  her 
arms  and  dragged  her  to  her  bedroom. 

"  Hush,  missus,  for  God's  sake,  hush,"  she  cried,  as  the  poor 
woman,  after  much  rubbing,  returned  wailing  to  consciousness. 
"Don't  say  dem  words,  de  mars'll  heah  you  shriek/' 

As  her  admonitions  had  no  effect,  she  hastily  opened  the 
Colonel's  medicine-chest,  and  grasping  the  laudanum,  poured  a 
heavy  dose  down  the  throat  of  her  mistress.  When  the  old 
Colonel  looked  in  not  long  after,  he  found  his  wife  sleeping  like 
an  infant.  But  Aunt  Hetty  watched  her  all  the  night  through 
all  the  same.  Between  the  dead  boy  in  the  hall  and  her  sick 
mistress  in  the  room,  that  stern  nature  counted  the  hours  until 
near  midnight,  when  her  mistress  awoke  too  exhausted  to  cry  out. 

"Go  to  him,"  she  gasped,  "tell  him  I  am  dying,  and  that 
with  my  last  breath  I  pardon  and  bless  him." 

Captain  Parnne  and  his  companions  were  having  a  carouse  on 
the  boat.  A  table  had  been  spread  in  the  rude  cabin,  and  with 
an  abundance  of  game,  and  yet  more  of  liquor,  the  midnight 
came  upon  them  all  more  or  less  drunk.  The  noisiest  one  was 
the  Captain,  who  laughed  and  talked  and  sang  incessantly.  It 
was  the  day  when  such  feasts  were  garnished  with  songs,  in  which 
the  landlord  was  admonished  to  "fill  the  flowing  bowl"  that  they 
might  "drink  to  the  lass,"  and  our  Captain  had  a  rich,  mellow 
voice  with  which  to  roll  out  the*  stupid  numbers. 

Did  the  Captain  seek  to  drown  the  voices  of  the  dead  and  dying, 
that  a  little  way  from  him  were  speaking,  speaking  as  if  they 
never  would  be  still.  Let  that  be  as  it  may,  he  was  startled  when 
his  sergeant  touched  him  on  the  shoulder  and  told  him  that  a 
woman  on  the  bank  wanted  to  see  him.  He  followed  the  man 
out  across  the  plank  and  ascended  the  steep  bank  as  directed. 

The  moon  at  the  full  cast  a  light  on  wood  and  river,  which 


64  AUNT  HETTY. 

would  have  been  that  of  day  but  for  the  fog  that  floated  on  the 
cool  autumnal  air  along  the  stream.  While  the  wooded  bluffs 
above  were  clear  and  well-defined  against  the  sky,  below  and 
about  him  the  white  vapor  made  an  inland  sea  almost  as  dense  to 
the  eye  as  the  waters  of  the  Ohio.  Captain  Parnne  found  himself 
in  the  presence  of  Aunt  Hetty. 

"  Well,  Aunty/'  he  said,  "  what  is  it  now  ?  "  She  straightened 
herself  up  in  the  misty  moonlight,  appearing  far  taller  in  the  dim 
light,  and  said  in  a  voice  in  which  anguish  seemed  held  at  the 
throat  by  a  stern  resolve  : 

"  Captain  Phil.  Parnne,  I  come  to  ye  wid  de  blessin'  ob  de 
guilty,  and  de  cuss  of  de  innercent.  De  woman  ye  has  ruined  is 
a  dyin',  and  de  blood  of  my  poor  boy  cries  to  God  from  de  ground 
foh  vengt  ance.  I  cuss  ye,  I  cuss  ye  !  May  ye  walk  in  trouble  all 
yo  days,  and  when  ye  dies  may  death  come  to  ye  wid  de  woe  ob 
hell  befo'  ye  feels  it.  De  mark  ob  Cain  is  on  yo  fo'head.  Tak 
de  blessiri'  of  de  wicked  an  de  cuss  ob  de  innercent/' 

"Oh,  go  to  hell,  you  old  hag! "  roared  the  Captain,  as  the  tall 
form  of  the  terrible  woman  seemed  to  melt  from  him  in  the  mist 
of  the  river. 

Propped  on  pillows  poor  Mrs.  Parnne  gazed  through  the  win 
dow  with  wistful  eyes  upon  the  river  far  below.  The  beautiful 
stream,  framed  in  by  the  golden  foliage  of  autumn,  offered  to  her 
sight  a  long  stretch  in  the  mellow  sunlight.  Boats  appeared  at 
long  intervals,  floated  by  and  disappeared,  but  no  flag  waved  above 
any  one  of  them  ;  no  roll  of  drum  or  clear  bugle-call  told  of  what 
she  longed  with  aching  heart-hunger  to  see.  The  river  had  swept 
all  that  from  her  life — a  frail  woe-stricken  life,  that  erelong 
floated  out  on  that  mightier  river  of  death  into  the  vast  unknown. 
She  was  given  sweet  Christian  burial.  The  minister  dwelt  upon 
her  many  virtues  and  chaste  womanly  lire,  and  a  text  of  Scripture 
indicating  the  same  was  duly  inscribed  upon  her  tomb.  The  real 
story,  the  terrible  truth,  lay  locked  in  Aunt  Hetty's  heart,  nor 
would  it  have  ever  been  known,  but  for  a  revelation  made  to  a 
brother  officer  by  Captain  Philip  during  a  carouse.  It  reached 
the  ears  of  m;my  of  the  family,  but  never  those  of  the  widower. 
The  old  Colonel  died  lamenting  the  loss  of  his  young  spouse,  and 


AUXT  HETTY.  65 

to-day  the  mouldering  bones  lie  buried  between  those  of  the  two 
wives,  and  upon  the  moae-covered  headstones  one  may  read  of 
pious  and  chaste  lives ;  but  no  monumeft*,  humble  or  pretentious, 
tells  of  the  one  heroic  life  of  the  poor  slave,  who  carried  to  her 
narrow  grave  the  silent  agony  of  her  grief  and  pride. 


ME.  BAEDOLPH  BOTTLES. 

NOVEL   VI. 

THE  Hon.  Bardolph  Bottles — I  call  him  that  because  that  is 
not  his  name — is  a  gentleman— and  1  call  him  so  because  it  is 
polite — of  stout  body,  florid  complexion,  with  the  little  mind  he 
possesses  spread  all  over  him. 

By  this  I  mean  that  the  Hon.  Bottles  has  his  character  and  force 
thereof  more  in  his  temperament  than  in  his  development  of 
brain.  All  men  of  action  are  more  or  less  of  this  sort.  All  men 
of  thought  are  the  reverse.  That  is,  thought  begets  caution  and 
distrust  in  one.  The  absence  of  thought  gives  place  to  confidence 
and  quick  action,  which  satisfies  the  masses,  and  makes  the  prompt, 
conceited  man  a  leader  of  men. 

If  the  last  named  is  lucky,  and  he  is  apt  to  be,  and  is  solemn 
enough,  he  wins  a  monument.  "  All  the  great  monuments  of  earth 
were  built  to  solemn  asses, "  said  the  witty  and  eloquent  Tom  Corwin. 

Now,  Bottles  is  not  solemn,  and  therefore  will  miss  his  monu 
ment.  But  Bottles  does  not  want  a  monument.  He  can  tell  you 
that  he  does  not  want  a  monument  ;  if  he  did  he  would  buy  one, 
for  Bottles  is  a  millionaire.  He  would  rather  use  his  money  in  the 
purchase  of  Congressmen,  salting  of  mines,  organizing  construction 
companies  for  the  building  of  railroads,  and  other  processes  of  an 
ingenious  sort,  through  which  money  may  be  accumulated. 

"  Monuments,  sir?  What  the  blank  do  I  want  with  a  monu 
ment?  Monuments  don't  pay.  What  is  it  to  old  George  that  he 
has  a  smoke-stack  six  hundred  feet  high  ?  They  call  that  a  monu 
ment.  I  suppose  it  is.  It  is  certainly  not  anything  else.  I 
wouldn't  give  three  dollars  and  thirty-seven  and  a  half  cents  for  it. 
Might  use  it  for  advertising  purposes.  Wouldn't  be  a  bad  dodge," 
and  the  Honorable  Bottles  will  laugh  until  his  round  face  gets  red 
der  than  ordinary. 


MR.   BARDOLPH  BOTTLES.  67 

My  hero  began  active  life  when  quite  young,  as  a  stable  boy. 
He  picked  up  his  reading  and  writing  as  he  did  old  clothes,  and 
worn  hats  and  toeless  shoes.  As  for  arithmetic,  it  came  to  him, 
as  Dogberry  asserted  of  the  kindred  branches,  by  nature,  but 
he  did  not  thank  God  for  it,  any  more  than  he  did  for  his  fat  nose 
and  cunning  disposition. 

He  developed  into  a  jockey,  and  rode  racers  to  win  or  lose,  as  he 
was  paid  to  win  or  lose.  When  grown  too  heavy  for  this,  he  bought 
the  stock  of  a  failing  liquor  dealer.  He  opened  a  lager-beer  saloon 
at  the  entrance  of  a  camp-meeting  ground.  The  pious  men  who 
established  this  camp  of  the  Lord  in  the  wilderness  of  sin  could 
prohibit  the  sale  of  alcoholic  liquors  within  a  mile  of  their  tents, 
but  there  was  some  sort  of  a  mystery  about  beer  that  baffled  all 
their  efforts.  They  were  forced  to  buy  out  Bottles,  on  his  own 
terms,  and  Bottles  was  pleased  with  the  transaction. 

Bardolph  used  his  money  to  purchase  a  billiard-room,  and,  back 
of  this  i  oom,  opened  a  gambling  resort.  The  young  men  entering 
the  gilded  saloon  for  a  game  of  billiards  were  invited  back  to  a 
supper,  and  when  well  stimulated  with  liquor  were  robbed  under 
a  show  of  gambling.  A  few  defalcations,  several  thefts  by  clerks, 
and  at  last  a  suicide  upon  the  premises,  made  the  business  "too 
hot  for  him/'  as  Bottles  expressed  it,  and  he  sold  the  billiard- 
room  and  abandoned  the  place.  The  war  breaking  out  ab  lut  this 
time,  Bottles,  full  of  patriotic  enthusiasm,  joined  the  army  as  a 
sutler.  This  was  Bottles'  worst  speculation,  owing  to  the  sudden 
and  continuous  retreats  of  our  armies  that  occurred,  although  we 
have  quite  forgotten  the  fact,  during  the  first  two  years  of  the  war, 
"profits  did  not  accrue. "  On  the  contrary,  Bottles  was  so  reduced 
in  pocket  that  he  was  forced  to  ask  for,  and  secured,  a  commission 
in  the  army. 

Xow,  Bardolph,  unlike  the  warrior  I  have  named  him  after,  is 
a  plucky  fellow,  and  he  fought  his  men  at  all  hours,  on  all  occa 
sions,  and  rose  rapidly  in  rank.  One  day,  when  the  shoeless,  shirt 
less,  half  starved  host  of  rebels,  und*  r  Lee,  were  falling  back,  leav 
ing  behind  them  a  highway  of  dead  and  dying,  Bottles  made  one 
of  his  impetuous  rushes,  and  got  hurt  by  the  dying  tiger.  A  shot 
through  his  shoulder  lifted  Bottles  from  his  saddle,  and  twenty 


68  MR.   BARDOLPIT  BOTTLES. 

soldiers  carried  him  off  the  field,  with  that  tender  solicitude  always 
shown  by,  men  going  to  the  war  toward  a  wounded  comrade. 

As  our  hero  had  no  limbs  to  amputate  nor  a  wound  that  would 
justify  any  sort  of  surgical  operation,  he  was  left  for  the  good  Sis- 
te  6  of  Charity  to  nurse  into  life. 

The  care  given  Bottles  by  the  pious  sisters  had  a  religious  influ 
ence  on  the  man.  He  will  to  this  day  knock  a  man  down  who 
dares  to  say  aught  against  the  Catholic  Church,  and  he  will  s\vear 
the  most  awful  oaths  to  strengthen  his  eulogy,  often  uttered,  of 
the  patient  angels  who  nursed  him  vhile  wounded. 

While  lying  between  life  and  death  Bottles  had  time  to  gravely 
consider  his  condition,  and,  with  pious  determination,  resolved  to 
give  up  soldiering  and  turn  his  attention  to  cotton. 

As  soon  as  he  "got  on  end,"  to  use  his  own  phraseology,  he 
bade  the  sisters  a  tender  adieu,  and,  working  his  way  to  Washing 
ton,  so'icited  and  obtained  from  Secretary  Chase  a  permit  to  trade 
beyond  our  lines  in  cotton.  He  was  a  gallant  soldier,  decorated 
with  an  ugly  wound,  and  had  a  right,  therefore,  to  privileges. 

It  was  Bottles'  great  opportunity,  and  he  seized  it  with  avidity. 
His  experience  as  a  sutler,  and  a  soldier,  added  to  his  audacity, 
made  him  take  risks  his  brother  dealers  in  cotton  shrank  from. 
He  found  it  much  easier  to  pierce  our  lines  with  cotton  than  he 
had  the  enemy's  lines  with  bayonets.  He  came  out  of  the  business 
with  over  two  hundred  thousand  dollars  in  bank. 

After  Lee's  surrender  he  was  assigned  to  duty,  at  his  own  re 
quest,  in  the  Freedman's  Bureau,  and  was  sent  South.  From  that 
part  of  our  great  country  he  returned  a  United  States  Senator. 
He  served  two  terms  in  that  solemn  body,  but  was  found  inel 
igible  for  a  third,  owing  to  a  lien  being  developed  by  the  peniten 
tiary,  from  certain  transactions  in  bonds  that  the  State  he  was 
supposed  to  represent  considered  fraudulent.  How  he  escaped  the 
scandal  of  even  a  trial  I  never  learned. 

Eetiring  from  the  Senate,  Bardolph  soon  appeared  as  a  railroad 
operator  at  the  South.  The  railroads  of  that  region  having  been 
almost  destroyed  by  the  war,  my  hero  used  his  short  means  in  buy 
ing  up,  for  a  mere  song,  the  more  important  lines,  and,  associating 
with  himself  certain  prominent  Confederates,  went  to  reconstruct- 


MR.   BARDOLPH  DOTTLES.  69 

ing,  well  knowing  that  as  the  South  recovered  from  her  prostra 
tion  these  lines  would  be  of  immense  value. 

Had  the  business  been  pursued  honestly  no  one  could  question 
the  right  to  the  money  accumulated  by  the  promoters.  But  hon 
esty  was  a  quality  Bottles  knew  little  of,  and  cared  less.  He  took 
the  prominent  Southerners  in  with  him,  as  a  guard  against  inves 
tigation  of  his  bond  business,  and  to  give  color  and  popularity  to 
his  ventures.  It  v  as  not  long,  however,  before  these  associates 
discovered  that  Bottles  was  making  an  unfair  divide,  and  war  broke 
out.  These  associates  were  not  the  sort  of  men  to  trifle  with,  but 
Bottles  was  their  equal  in  that  respect,  and  would  have  fought  it 
out,  probably  to  a  success,  but  for  a  little  transaction  that  had  oc 
curred  when  Battles  was  Senator  and  yet  dealing  in  fraudulent 
bonds. 

Once  upon  a  time  there  existed  in  AVall  Street  a  couple  of  female 
brokers.  They  were  lovely  to  look  upon,  and  while  wise  as  ser 
pents  were  innocent  as  doves— soiled  doves.  Bottles,  like  all  of  us, 
has  his  weaknesses,  and  the  elder  of  the  lovely  brokers  proved 
one  of  them.  To  his  eyes  she  was  "  as  pretty  as  a  painted  wagon 
or  a  Missouri  mule,"  to  use  his  own  comparisons,  and  he  was  fool 
enough,  while  in  Xe\v  York  seeking  to  conceal  his  bonds,  to  em 
ploy  these  women.  It  was  during  an  entertainment  at  their  gor 
geously  furnished  house,  after  my  hero  had  probably  imbibed  too 
much  champagne. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  some  time  after,  when  sick  of  his  brokers, 
he  had  a  settlement.  One  item  in  their  account  was  $10,000. 
He  swore  with  a  great  oath,  that  he  would  allow  no  such  swindle, 
and  a  quarrel  followed  that  cost  him  twenty  times  the  $10,000 
charged. 

Tlies?  gifted  and  gentle  brokers  were  cats,  that  could  sit  at  a 
hole  quietly  a  long  time,  for  an  opportunity  to  steal  out. 

The  opportunity  appeared  when  Bottles  quarrelled  with  his 
Southern  associates.  The  gentle  brokers  were  quick  to  sell  their 
information,  and  his  wronged  brother  railroaders  were  able  to  fetch 
the  penitentiary  again  to  the  gaze  of  Bottles,  and  so  force  him  out 
of  the  enterprise. 

Life  is  a  campaign,  not  a  battle,  and  has  its  defeats  as  well  as. 


70  MR.   BARDOLPH  BOTTLES. 

its  victories.  Bardolph  was  defeated,  but  not  destroyed,  and  he 
next  turned  his  attention,  as  a  great  financial  operator,  to  railroads 
being  built,  at  the  West,  on  appropriations  of  money  and  land 
grants  from  the  Government. 

Entering  this  great  national  enterprise,  the  ingenious  mind  of 
Bottles  suggested  a  plan  through  which  the  great  national  thorough 
fare  could  be  built  by  the  Government,  and  owned  by  the  company. 
Organizing  this  last  named,  he  immediately  proceeded  to  create  a 
construction  company  out  of  the  railroad  company  itself,  and 
then  contracted  for  the  construction.  As  the  two  companies 
consisted  of  the  same  men,  the  contracts  were  extremely  liberal, 
so  that  the  great  national  throughfare  was  made  to  cost  twice  the 
amount  necessary  to  build  it,  and  after  an  expenditure  of  appro 
priations  in  making  the  road,  those  ingenious  gentlemen,  who  had 
not  expended  a  cent,  issued  to  themselves  evidences  of  indebted 
ness,  some  of  which  were  distributed  through  Congress  where  it 
was  supposed  "they  would  do  the  most  good." 

The  members  caught  holding  this  stock  were  investigated  and 
severely  censured,  but  the  men  who  succeeded  in  stealing  some 
eighty  millions  are  yet  unpunished,  my  hero,  Bottles,  among  the 
rest. 

I  was  travelling  West  some  years  since,  when  the  Honorable 
Bottles  invaded  the  sleeper  I  helped  fill.  Time,  like  Justice,  had 
dealt  gently  with  the  sutler,  soldier,  statesman,  and  r  ilroad  king. 
The  snow  of  years  was  sprinkling  the  little  hair  and  profuse  beard 
left  him.  His  waist  had  become  traditionary,  and  his  legs  more 
slender  than  of  old,  but  his  form  was  yet  erect,  his  movements  act 
ive,  his  voice  strong  and  hearty,  and  his  eyes  bright  as  ever.  He 
greeted  me  with  a  hearty  shake  and  a  merry  laugh,  as  he  directed 
and  aided  in  distributing  his  luggage. 

He  had,  among  other  things,  a  huge  lunch- basket  and  a  case 
of  champagne.  As  the  day  promised  to  be  exceedingly  hot,  for  it 
was  in  midsummer,  he  directed  the  conductor  of  the  sleeper  to 
take  the  bottles  fr,  m  the  basket  quietly  and  drop  them  in  the 
ice-cooler  of  the  car. 

"Why,  General,"  I  said,  "you  surely  are  not  going  to  put 
those  dirty  bottles  in  the  water  the  passengers  have  to  drink?" 


JIK.    BARDOLPH  BOTTLES.  71 

"  Oh,  Tom  can  wipe  them  off.  Wipe  'em  off,  Tom.  That's 
all  right." 

Tom  left  to  execute  this  extraordinary  order,  and  soon  the  Gen 
eral  and  I  were  deep  in  reminiscences  of  the  past,  for  I  had  known 
him  for  fourteen  years,  in  and  about  the  national  capital,  and 
always  found  him  exceedingly  entertaining. 

As  time  wore  on  that  morning  I  observed  that  the  passengers 
of  our  sleeper  were  exceedingly  thirsty  and  resorted  continually  to 
the  cooler  for  water.  I  further  observed,  after  a  time,  that  the 
women  and  children  had  flushed  faces  and  brightened  eyes,  and 
that,  after  a  time,  they  grew  noisy.  An  old  lady,  weighing  some 
two  hundred,  after  a  vain  attempt  to  look  at  the  end  of  her  nose, 
settled  back  into  a  sleep,  with  her  head  thrown  back,  that  opened 
her  mouth,  and  not  only  start-  d  a  heavy  article  of  snore  but 
dropped  a  very  fair  article  of  "  store  teeth"  in  her  lap.  Four 
young  men,  evidently  commercial  travellers,  engaged  in  a  game 
of  poker,  grew  loudly  hilarious  at  first,  then  got  quarrelsome,  and 
at  last  drew  revolvers  and  were  disarmed  by  the  conductor  and 
brakeman,  amid  shrieks  of  the  women  that  were  unusually  loud. 

( '  Well/'  said  Bottles,  "  this  is  the  crankiest  car  I  ever  boarded. 
What  the  blank  is  the  matter  with  them  anyhow  ?  " 

The  mystery  was  solved  about  roon.  Bottles  opened  his  lunch- 
basket,  and  made  a  spread  of  cold  quails,  pickles,  pate  de  foie  gras 
and  other  costly  delicacies,  and  then  sent  the  porter  for  a  bottle 
of  champagne.  The  man  returned,  looking  as  if  he  had  seen  the 
ghost  of  Guiteau. 

"  General,"  he  said  in  a  stage  whisper,  "  dere  ain't  no  cham 
pagne,  sah." 

"  Why,  what's  gone  with  it  ?  " 

' '  Well,  you  see,  sah,  de  motion  ob  de  cah,  or  ice,  in  de  coolahs, 
hab  done  broke  all  de  bottles,  and  dese  or 'nary  people  has  been 
diinkin'  youah  champagne  all  mawnin',  sah." 

"Well,  I  be  damned,"  said  the  Honorable  Bottles. 


ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW. 

NOVEL  VII. 

"  I  TELL  you,  young  gentlemen,  that  I  once  enjoyed  this  sort  of 
thing  probably  more  than  you  do.  When  a  young  man  I  was 
very  much  of  a  young  man.  I  was  impulsive,  propulsive,  senti 
mental — in  fact,  considerably  troubled  with  the  fool." 

The  Judge  leaned  back  in  his  arm-chair,  and,  looking  at  his 
handsome  and  rather  hard  face,  it  was  difficult  to  believe,  even 
seen  through  a  cloud  of  cigar  smoke  and  a  glass  of  champagne  at 
his  elbow,  that  the  Judge  had  ever  been  troubled  with  a  weakness 
of  any  sort.  Standing  at  the  head  of  his  profession,  he  was  noted 
not  only  for  his  brilliant  qualities,  but  his  steady,  unremitting 
hard  work.  The  speech  I  have  put  to  record  was  made  after 
a  bar  supper,  when  a  few  young  men  gathered  around  him  in 
a  eosey  sitting-room  to  enjoy  his  sharp  utterances  and  witty  re 
marks. 

"  Come,  Judge,  tell  us  about  yourself  at  that  mythical  age  you 
speak  of." 

"Well,  young  gentlemen,  I  was  admitted  to  the  bar  at  the 
town  of  Herat,  in  New  England.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  made  the 
closest  shave  ever  accomplished  by  an  idle  student.  Admitting 
me  to  the  bar  under  the  circumstances  was  simply  ridiculous.  I 
owed  my  success  to  old  Judge  Oolville,  the  chairman  of  the  com 
mittee,  who  said  to  his  associates,  after  they  had  got  through  the 
fatiguing  process  of  finding  how  little  I  knew,  'Gentlemen,  we 
have  admitted  a  good  deal  of  information,  with  little  ability,  and 
I  want  now  to  admit  one  possessed  of  much  ability  and  no  infor 
mation/  The  whimsical  proposition  took  and  I  was  duly  com 
missioned  attorney  at  law  and  solicitor  in  chancery. 

"  The  reason  for  this  ridiculous  exhibition  was  in  the  fact  that 
for  nearly  a  year  previous  I  had  been  devoting  myself  to  a  little 


ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW.  73 

widow  instead  of  the  law.  I  had  collided  on  a  sweet  creature  of  a 
blond  make,  relict  of  a  departed  music-master,  who,  dying,  had 
left  his  charming  widow  sole  possessor  of  an  old  piano,  worn-out 
music-stool,  and  the  name  of  Mrs.  De  Wiggles.  She  had  what  the 
world  would  pronounce  a  baby  face,  but  to  me  it  was  that  of 
an  angel.  She  had  large,  dreamy  blue  eyes  fluffy  light  hair,  rosy 
round  cheeks,  and  a  mouth  so  perfect  that  when  her  lips  opened 
and  displayed  the  regular  little  ivory  teeth  it  Appeared  the  pearly 
gate  of  paradise.  Her  father  was  min  ster  of  a  fashionable 
church  and  she  sang  in  the  choir.  She  had  a  shy,  and  yet 
frank,  \\  ay  with  her  that  played  old  Satan  with  all  the  students 
of  Herat. 

"  I  fell  madly  in  love  with  the  little  widow  and  sold  my  gun  to 
purchase  a  guitar.  When  not  clawing  at  this  vile  instrument,  I 
was  dancing  attendance  on  my  love,  escorting  her  to  church,  for  I 
became  extremely  devout,  praying  earnestly  to  the  little  cherub 
that  sat  up  aloft — that  is  in  the  choir — going  to  lectures,  pious 
picnics ;  and  when  not  thus  engaged  I  put  in  my  time  writing 
love-songs  and  howling  them  out  by  moonlight  under  her  window. 

"  The  little  creature  favored  my  suit  and  we  were  engaged, 
with  an  understanding  that  the  marriage  was  not  to  come  off  until 
after  my  admission  to  the  bar,  when  a  practice  would  enable  me  to 
support  my  divinity. 

"  I  nearly  ruined  myself  in  the  purchase  of  an  engagement- 
ring  for  her.  It  was  a  sweet  little  thing,  made  up  of  a  serpent 
with  its  tail  in  its  mouth,  to  indicate  eternity,  and  clustered  with 
pearls,  having  two  little  diamonds  for  eyes. 

"  After  securing  my  prize  I  sat  down  to  hard  work.  It  was  too 
late.  The  law  is  a  jealous  mistress,  young  gentlemen,  and  is 
especially  hostile  to  blue  eyes,  fluffy  hair,  and  a  pearly  gate  to  par 
adise.  I  toiled  on  in  a  vain  endeavor  to  make  up  for  lost  time, 
and  got  through,  as  I  tell  you,  on  the  whim  of  an  eccentric  old 
gentleman. 

"To  open  an  office  and  make  a  bid  for  business  followed, 
of  course.  On  the  score  of  economy  I  made  my  office  and  bedroom 
one.  I  had  a  folding  couch  that  I  made  up  myself  every  morning 
into  the  form  of  a  wardrobe.  At  least  this  was  the  delusion  I 


74  ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW. 

indulged  in.  It  had  an  aggravating  way,  after  it  had  been  set  on 
end,  of  escaping  the  spring  and  coming  down  with  a  bang  most 
decidedly  offensive.  I  think  the  bugs  used  to  start  that  spring, 
otherwise  it  must  have  been  Satan  himself,  for  it  came  down  one 
day  on  the  only  client  that  ever  ventured  into  my  den. 

"  She  was  a  feeble  old  lady,  and  suffered  so  from  the  dead-fall 
that  I  had  to  support  her  for  weeks  at  the  hospital. 

"  This  bed,  when  a  bed,  stood  across  a  door  that  led  into  a 
vacant  room  back  of  my  office.  I  give  you  these  particulars,  young 
gentlemen,  because  they  are  necessary  for  a  better  understanding 
of  the  ex  raordinary  case  that  followed. 

"  The  course  of  true  love  never  does  run  smooth,  and  mine  got 
into  the  rapids  caused  by  a  fat  hatter  before  it  took  its  tumble  over 
the  precipice  where  it  disappeared  forever.  This  hatter,  who 
answered  to  the  name  of  Amity  Dodd,  was  an  acquaintance  of 
mine,  and  a  creditor,  for  I  not  only  owed  him  for  hats  and  caps, 
but  I  had  borrowed  of  him  divers  sums  of  money.  He  was  a  good- 
natured  clam  on  legs,  \vith  a  bulbous  termination  to  his  back-bone 
which  resembled  a  pumpkin.  He  always  reminded  me  of  the  two 
lines  in  the  old  ballad  which  said  : 

His  head  being  larger  than  common, 
O'erbalanced  the  rest  of  his  fat. 

"  Amity  Dodd  played  upon  the  flute.  I  never  knew  a  clam  on 
end  but  what  did  play  upon  the  flute.  And,  being  thus  musically 
inclined,  took  it  into  his  bulbous  adipose  that  he  would  like  well 
to  be  acquainted  with  the  widow,  De  Wiggles,  and  so  he  asked  me 
to  introduce  him.  I  could  not  well  refuse  on  account  of  those 
bills.  I  asked  permission  of  my  love,  telling  her  at  the  rame  time 
that  he  was  a  poor  sort  of  a  creature,  but  played  divinely  on  the 
flute  and  sold  hats  at  a  great  profit. 

"Amity  Dodd  was  introduced.  Amity  Dodd  got  to  be  very 
intimate.  At  first  his  flute  and  my  guitar,  the  widow's  piano,  and 
sweet  voices  made  up  little  concerts  that  caused  the  neighbors  to 
wish  they  were  dead.  After  a  time  my  guitar  was  dropped  out, 
and  the  concerts  went  on  without  me.  Then  the  hatter  got  to  be 
sort  of  an  escort  at  church,  concerts,  lectures,  and  when  I  remon- 


ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW.  75 

strated  my  little  intended  wife  would  laugh  like  a  child  and  say, 
'  Poor  fat  man,  I  feel  so  sorry  for  him/ 

"One  fatal  afternoon  I  called  unexpectedly  upon  my  love,  and 
entering  the  parlor  unannounced,  as  was  customary,  I  found  my 
love  in  the  arms  of  my  hatter. 

"  I  was  jilted,  betrayed.  I  felt  myself  destroyed  and  left  the 
house  in  a  frenzy  of  madness  which  expressed  itself  with  a  slam  of 
the  front  door  that  broke  the  hinges,  knocked  out  a  panel,  and 
made  the  paternal  author  of  the  fair  De  Wiggles  bounce  out  of  his 
chair  under  the  impression  that  an  earthquake  had  struck  that 
part  of  the  town. 

"Ah,  me,  what  days  and  nights  of  desolation's  nakedness  fol 
lowed  that  awful  betrayal  of  my  youthful  affections.  I  fled  the 
town,  lived  in  a  gloomy  way  at  a  country  farm-house  on  heavy 
bread,  sour  milk,  and  soul-destroying  fried  bacon.  When  at  last 
resolved  into  a  cynical,  Byronic,  cut-my-throat-at-midnight  sort  of 
character  I  returned  to  find  that  the  faithless  De  Wiggles  was  con 
verted  into  Mrs.  Amity  Dodd.  I  tell  you,  young  gentlemen,  that 
those  scornful  words  wrought  into  the  poetry  of  '  Locksley  Hall ' 
by  Lord  Tennyson  were  milk  and  water  to  the  feelings  of  a  young 
man  who  finds  his  love  captured  and  carried  off  by  a  low  hatter 
who  plays  the  flute. 

"  I  survived,  however,  and  gradually  returned  to  my  ordinary 
food  and  sleep.  This  sleep  returned  to  me  slowly,  and  many  a 
night  I  found  it  extremely  difficult  to  escape  a  sense  of  my  misfort 
une  and  the  music  of  the  mosquitoes.  One  night  I  had  dropped 
into  a  profound  sleep,  and  dreaming  that  I  had  converted  the  mis 
erable  hatter  into  an  old  smooth-bore  and  was  firing  him  at  the 
perfidious  widow,  I  was  suddenly  awakened  by  some  one  falling 
upon  me.  Throwing  up  my  arms  instinctively,  I  seized  a  man 
just  as  a  revolver  exploded  in  the  room.  Clutching  the  intruder 
firmly  by  the  throat,  I  found  myself  dragged  into  the  vacant  room 
back  of  my  office.  Here  a  fierce  tussle  occurred,  my  assailant  evi 
dently  trying  to  escape  me,  while  I  instinctively  held  to  him.  He 
succeeded,  however,  in  escaping  out  of  my  grasp  through  an  open 
window  to  a  roof  beyond,  and  as  he  clattered  down  I.  heard  a 
shout,  a  shot,  and  then  came  a  dead  silence  in  the  bright  moon* 


76  ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW. 

light  of  the  summer  night.  I  returned  to  my  office  and  bedroom, 
struck  a  light,  and  found  a  revolver,  with  one  chamber  exploded, 
lying  upon  the  floor.  The  next  day's  papers  told  of  a  burglary 
that  had  been  committed  upon  the  residence  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Tim- 
mins,  in  which  certain  valuables  belonging  to  Mrs.  Amity  Dodd 
had  been  abstracted.  The  papers  went  on  to  say  that  the  thief 
had  been  captured  after  a  chase  over  roofs,  and  the  valuables  taken 
found  upon  his  person. 

"  I  laughed  a  scornful  laugh  at  this  circumstance,  and  had  dis 
missed  it  from  my  mind,  when,  one  day,  entering  iny  office  after 
breakfast,  I  found  the  engagement-ring  I  had  given  my  late  fiancee, 
now  Mrs.  Am  ty  Dodd. 

"  I  called  up  the  old  Irishwoman  and  asked  where  this  article 
came  from.  *  Shure,'  she  said,  ( I  found  it  on  the  floor,  and  put 
it  on  your  table.'  I  thought,  of  course,  the  fickle  woman  had 
been  taken  with  sudden  compunction  and  returned  me  my  poor 
ring. 

"At  the  next  term  of  court  the  burglar  of  the  Dodd  apart 
ment  was  arraigned,  with  other  prisoners,  and  having  told  the 
court  he  was  too  poor  to  employ  an  attorney,  Judge  Colville  turned 
to  a  friend  of  mine,  Brock  Harrison,  who  had  just  been  admitted 
to  the  bar,  and  said  :  '  Brother  Harrison,  take  this  prisoner  and 
see  him  legally  convicted.' 

"A  sudden  impulse  seized  me,  and  I  volunteered  to  assist.  There 
wasn't  the  ghost  of  a  chance  for  the  fellow's  acquittal.  He  had 
been  seen  to  enter  the  house,  and  when  the  alarm  was  given  and  the 
police  rallied  he  was  observed  stealing  out.  He  escaped  over  some 
roofs,  and  for  a  moment  seemed  to  have  got  free  when  the  re 
port  of  a  pistol  attracted  attention  and  the  thief  was  c.iught  coming 
from  my  room  with  the  missing  valuables  upon  his  person.  His 
stumbling  over  my  bed,  dropping  his  revolver  that  exploded  as  it 
struck  the  floor,  proved  his  ruin.  I  don't  know  why  I  did  such 
an  insane  thing  as  to  interfere  in  this  trial.  But  I  knew  that  my 
late  love  had  to  be  the  prosecuting  witness,  and  a  morbid  desire 
to  face  her,  question  her,  and  put  her  down  with  my  lofty  indiffer 
ence,  took  possession  of  me. 

tf  On  the  day  of  the  trial  the  court-house  was  crowded.,  and  all 


ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW.  77 

the  congregation  of  the  Rev.  Mr  Timmins  made  it  a  point  to  at 
tend.  The  trial  began,  and  after  the  police  had  told  how  they 
caught  and  captured  the  thief,  Mrs.  Amity  Dodd  was  called  to  the 
stand.  My  heart  for  a  second  stood  still  as  she  lifted  her  little 
hand  to  be  sworn.  I  mastered  my  emotions  to  see  that  she  ap 
peared  prettier  than  ever,  and  she  was  just  as  shy,  yet  frank  and 
winning,  as  at  any  period  of  her  treacherous  life.  At  the  request 
of  the  prosecutor  she  told  the  story  of  the  robbery.  When  through, 
the  State  turned  her  over  to  me  for  a  cross-examination,  and  I  set 
myself  to  the  task.  A  dead  silence  pervaded  the  court-room.  In 
a  low,  steady  voice  I  said  :  '  Madam,  will  you  please  tell  the  court 
what  those  articles  were  that  were  taken  on  the  night  of  the  rob 
bery  ? '  She  went  over  the  list,  and  among  the  rest  described  my 
ring.  '  Madam,  I  said,  do  you  mean  to  assert  that  this  ring  was 
among  the  articles  taken  that  night  ? '  and  I  took  the  little  jewel 
from  my  vest-pocket  and  held  it  before  her.  She  faltered,  hesi 
tated,  and  then  answered  :  '  Yes.'  ( Is  it  your  property  ? '  I 
asked.  She  answered  in  a  low  tone  :  '  Yes.'  '  Was  it  purchased 
by  you?'  I  asked  The  court  could  just  hear  the  word  "gift* 
gasped  out.  l  Given  you  by  whom  ? '  I  asked.  Mrs.  Amity  Dodd 
faltered  out  something  and  fell  over  in  a  dead  faint. 

"  '  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  examination  ?  '  demanded  the 
little  dried- up  prosecutor. 

"  '  We  were  about  to  ask  the  same  question/  said  the  Court. 

"'Nothing,'  I  replied,  'only  to  show  that  the  prosecuting 
witness  has  a  very  unreliable  memory.  The  ring,  as  we  are  pre 
pared  to  show,  has  been  in  our  possession  for  some  time  and  could 
not,  therefore,  have  been  among  the  articles  stolen  at  night.' 

"'Hold  on,  Bob.'  whispered  Brock  to  me,  'you  are  driving 
into  trouble.  Our  fellow  tells  me  he  did  steal  that  ring.' 

"  '  He  lies,'  I  retorted,  '  I  gave  her  that  ring,  and  she  returned 
it  tome.' 

"  'Well,'  remarked  the  court,  '  the  point  is  immaterial  ;  there 
seems  to  be  enough  of  yellow  jewelry  to  make  this  grand  larceny. 
Proceed  with  the  case.'  Brock  and  the  prosecutor  declined  argu 
ing.  Brock  told  me  in  an  undertone  that  we  hadn't  a  leg  to  stand 
on.  I  became  possessed  of  a  devil,  and  occupied  half  an  hour  in 


78  KB  OUT  LOVE  AND  LAW. 

addressing  the  jury  on  the  unreliability  of  testimony  offered  by 
women,  children,  idiots,  and  policemen.  I  was  exceedingly  sarcas 
tic  on  females  in  general,  and  I  stuck  that  ring  under  the  nose  of 
the  prosecutor,  flourished  it  in  the  eyes  of  the  jury,  until  the  ring 
got  to  be  the  most  prominent  feature  of  the  case.  The  sensation 
created  by  the  fainting  of  the  prosecuting  witness  was  continued 
till  the  close  of  my  extraordinary  speech. 

"  The  prosecutor,  a  specimen  Yankee  run  to  seed,  sat  grim  and 
silent,  and  when  he  arose  to  reply  had  in  his  grim  countenance  an 
expression  of  dry  humor  that  soon  found  vent  in  words  that  were 
first  followed  by  smiles  and  then  roars  of  laughter  on  the  part  of 
the  court-room.  He  began  by  telling  of  my  love  affair,  how  I  was 
led  on  and  then  jilted,  and  he  drew  a  pathetic  picture  of  my 
blighted  affections.  He  told  how  a  villain  of  a  hatter  had  wound 
himself  around  the  heart  of  the  fair  widow  and  crowded  me  out 
into  a  cold,  unfeeling  world.  He  said,  of  course  the  hatter  made 
himself  felt,  and  all  true  maidens  and  gallant  swains  were  bound 
to  feel  for  me.  He  felt  for  me  himself,  for  he  had  been  in  love, 
had  been  disappointed  and  stunted  in  his  growth,  and  had  never 
developed  into  the  handsome  manhood  once  promised  him. 

' '  All  this  was  uttered  in  the  deepest  solemnity  and  most  earn 
est  manner.  When  a  roar  of  laughter  greeted  him  he  would  turn 
and  look  upon  the  crowd,  with  an  expression  of  amazement,  which 
seemed  to  say,  ' Why  this  unseemly  levity?' 

"  This  would  be  followed  by  yet  more  boisterous  merriment, 
lasting  sometimes  for  a  moment  or  more. 

"The  crowning  outrage  of  this  wretch  came  in  on  his  theory  of 
defence.  He  claimed  that,  driven  to  madness  by  my  wrongs,  I  had 
employed  this  villain  of  a  burglar  to  break  into  the  hatter's  matri 
monial  bower  and  abstract  the  token  of  my  affection,  which  the 
fair  widow,  now  the  wife  of  the  skilled  artisan  in  headgear,  had 
failed  or  refused  to  return. 

"'Why,  gentlemen/  he  cried,  '  the  burglar  made  a  bee-line 
from  the  bower  across  the  house  tops  to  the  bedroom  and  office 
of  his  employer,  this  blighted  being,  and  then  left  this  token  of 
former  bliss  in  the  hands  of  this  melancholy  man.  That  the  low 
born  villain,  without  a  particle  of  romance  in  his  soul,  under- 


ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW.  79 

took  to  do  a  little  business  on  his  own  account,  abstracting  the 
hatters  watch,  a  silver  time-piece  of  great  value  as  a  family  heir 
loom,  the  madam's  hair-pins,  and  other  valuables,  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at.  It  is  to  be  be  deplored  that  a  beautiful  little  ro 
mance  was  destroyed  by  this  low-born  villain  of  a  burglar.' 

"How  I  got  from  the  court- room  to  my  office  I  do  not  know. 
My  self-possession,  indeed,  my  mind,  as  the  Pennsylvania!!  remarked 
at  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  was  '  all  tore  up.'  I  had  scarcely  time 
to  remove  my  hat  when  the  place  was  invaded  by  the  indignant 
hatter.  He  was  accompanied  by  his  foreman,  a  limestone  forma 
tion,  tinctured  in  blue  and  black  by  the  dyes  he  handled. 

"'You  have  insulted  my  wife/ cried  the  hatter,  putting  hia 
unpleasant  countenance  near  mine. 

"  ' Of  course  I  have/  I  roared  insanely,  'and  lam  glad  of  it. 
She  will  find  now  what  it  is  to  lack  the  protection  of  a  man., 

"'Hit  him,  boss/ exclaimed  the  foreman,  with  that  self-corn* 
posed  manner  always  peculiar  to  the  man  who  goes  along  as  a 
friend.  The  indignant  hatter  lifted  his  arms,  raising  his  pudgy 
fist  as  high  above  his  head  as  he  could,  intending  to  bring  it  down 
upon  me  with  great  force. 

"  I  had  not  studied  the  noble  art  of  self-defence  for  nothing, 
and  I  struck  my  entire  weight  from  the  shoulder  into  his  intel 
lectual  countenance,  that,  encountering  his  nose,  his  only  guard, 
knocked  that  member,  having  struck  it,  flat,  and  sent  the  hat- 
building,  flute-playing  enemy  prone  upon  the  floor.  The  foreman 
first  picked  up  the  hat  of  Irs  boss,  and  then  the  boss  himself. 
While  holding  him  in  his  arms,  I  proceeded  to  paint  his  intellect 
ual  outlook  a  deep  red. 

"  '  Stop  that ! '  cried  the  foreman,  and  as  I  did  not  obey,  he 
struck  at  me,  and  I  proceeded  at  once  to  give  him  the  benefit  of  a 
paper-weight  that  brought  the  entire  establishment  to  the  floor. 
Rushing  out  to  the  street,  with  a  bang  of  the  door  behind 
me,  which  had  upon  it  a  placard  notifying  my  supposed  clients 
that  I  had  gone  to  dinner  and  would  be  back  in  twenty  minutes, 
I  unfortunately  encountered  the  prosecuting  attorney.  He  was 
returning  from  the  court  accompanied  by  two  other  lawyers. 
They  were  in  a  most  hilarious  mood,  laughing,  doubtlessly,  over 


80  ABOUT  LOVE  AND  LAW. 

the  late  trial.  This  was  too  much  for  me,  and,  rushing  at  the 
humorous  legal  luminary,  I  slapped  his  mouth  ;  his  comical  ex 
pression  of  utter  amazement  and  fright  on  this  occasion  was 
genuine.  Dropping  his  green  bag,  he  turned  to  fly.  As  his  rear 
elevation  presented  itself  to  me,  I  administered  a  kick  that  seemed 
to  lift  him  from  the  pavement  and  so  accelerated  his  flight  that 
he  disappeared  like  magic  in  a  tin-shop  near  us. 

"  That  night  I  was  surrounded  by  a  gang  of  students  singing  a 
refrain,  part  of  which,  as  I  remember  it,  ran  something  like  this: 

When  first  I  lost  my  little  rose, 

I  eased  my  aching  heart  with  blows 

And  hit  the  hatter  on  the  nose,  O  M'riar  ! 

"  The  0  M'riar  went  off  into  cat  yells  of  the  most  exasperating 
character. 

"The  journals  next  day  were  full  of  me.  In  some  I  was 
treated  of  as  an  idiot ;  in  others  as  an  assassin  and  thief. 

"  I  should  have  been  driven  into  an  asylum  for  lunatics  had  it 
not  been  for  my  old  friend.  Judge  Colville,  who  came  to  see  me. 

"  'You  have  got  yourself  into  a  pretty  mess,  my  boy/  he  said, 
'  and  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  vacate  this  town  and  go 
West/ 

"I  replied  humbly  that  I  would  be  glad  to  do  so  had  I  the 
means.  He  volunteered  to  loan  me  a  hundred  dollars,  and  that 
night  I  left  the  town  of  Herat  never  to  see  it  again." 


OLD  SHACK. 

NOVEL   Till. 

IT  was  Josh  Billings,  I  believe,  who  called  our  attention  to  the 
fact  that  monkeys  and  negroes  were  born  old.  A  young  monkey 
and  a  negro  baby  have  an  expression  of  vast  experience  from  the 
first  stage.  It  docs  not  change  as  the  years  roll  by.  A  negro 
retires  from  active  life  at  about  forty  years  of  age,  and  at  sixty 
tacks  on  a  hundred  years  and  becomes  one  of  Washington's  body- 
servants.  There  is  nothing  in  his  appearance  that  contradicts 
this  assumption.  On  the  contrary,  his  wrinkled  solemnity  and 
words  of  worldly  wisdom  go  far  to  confirm  his  assumption. 

I  never  ki,ew  how  old  the  venerable  Shack  was.  He  claimed 
to  have  been  my  grandfather's  body-servant  during  the  Kevolu- 
tion  and  through  the  war  of  '12.  He  could  have  been  this  and 
not  reached  over  a  hundred  when  he  appeared  at  Macochee  at  the 
head  of  about  twenty  colored  men,  wome  .',  and  children,  escaped 
slaves  from  my  grandfather's  farm,  Federal  Hall,  Boone  County, 
Kentucky.  My  father  was  perfectly  amazed  at  their  appearance, 
for  slavery  at  Federal  Hall,  as  he  remembered  it,  was  purely 
nominal.  The  negroes  worked  when  they  felt  like  it,  which  was 
very  seldom  ;  and.  owing  to  the  disappearance  of  fences,  crops 
had  come  to  be  traditional.  When  Shack  was  remonstrated  with 
for  his  ungrateful  conduct  he  replied  : 

"I'ze  got  as  high  regard  for  de  ole  Kurnel  as  I'ze  got  for 
Gineral  Washington  hisself.  But  you  see,  young  Mass'  Saunders 
comes  up  and  is  mi'ty  handy  \\it  de  whip.  We  goes  up  to  the 
ole  Kurnel  to  'monstrate,  and  de  ole  Kurnel  says,  says  he  :  '  You 
is  a  lot  ob  or'nary  niggers.  You  is/  says  he,  '  a  burden  and  a 
nuisance/  says  he.  '  I  wish  you'd  jes'  cl'ar  out/  Dat  talk  ob  de 
ole  Kurnel  jes'  brought  de  tears  to  my  eyes,  foh  you  see  I'd  been 
wit'  him  troo  all  de  big  wahs.  I  nu's  him  when  he  was  sick,  I 


82  OLD  SHACK. 

nil's  him  when  he  was  wounded  ;  I  served  him  like  intelligent 
nigger  all  the  time,  and  to  hav'  him  use  dem  language  hurt  de  ole 
niggers'  feelin's.  So  we  jes'  up  and  said,  '  Good  by,  massah,  we's 
goin'.  De  ole  massah's  mighty  pious  man  ;  but,  my  sole,  but  he 
did  use  some  mighty  profane  langwidge.  Den  we  all  lifted  up 
our  Ebinezers  and  wept.  Den  de  ole  man  took  his  big  stick  wid 
de  gold  head,  which  his  regimen'  gib  him,  and  he  jest  drove  us 
niggers  out.  I  don't  think,  Massah  Ben,  dat  ole  Massah  Kurnel 
is  in  his  proppah  mind." 

However  indignant  the  old  Colonel  might  have  been  to  see  his 
slaves  leave  in  broad  daylight,  he  made  no  effort  to  reclaim  them. 
On  the  contrary,  when  my  father  wrote  him  that  his  negroes  were 
at  Macochee,  and  wished  to  know  \\  hat  he  should  do  about  it,  he 
replied  by  post,  in  a  letter  that  cost  twenty -five  cents,  that  he  felt 
very  much  relieved  at  their  going,  and  hoped  steps  might  be  taken 
to  prevent  their  return,  especially  that  old  rascal  Shack,  who  had 
been  at  the  bottom  and  cause  of  all  the  laziness,  lying,  and  theft  of , 
the  gang. 

To  understand  and  appreciate  this  it  is  only  necessary  to  know 
that  the  old  Colonel,  like  many  of  the  more  conscientious  first 
settlers  of  Kentucky,  was  at  heart  an  Abolitionist.  His  soul  re 
volted  at  the  thought  of  unrequited  toil  on  the  part  of  these  poor 
creatures.  He  had  attempted  to  treat  them  as  free  laborers,  and 
failed  in  the  most  ignominious  manner. 

The  escaped  slaves  scattered  and  disappeared,  all  save  old 
Shack,  who  stuck  to  Macochee  the  rest  of  his  days. 

He  persisted  in  going  through  the  forms  of  work,  sometimes 
to  the  vexation  of  my  father,  but  generally  to  the  amusement  of 
all  the  family.  As  the  body-servant  of  the  old  Colonel  through 
two  wars,  it  was  entertaining  to  note  his  sense  of  superiority  over 
all  of  us,  and  the  care  he  felt  for  the  old  Colonel's  dignity  and 
reputation.  The  old  gentleman  used  to  relate  that  there  was  but 
one  occasion  when  Shack  forgot  himself  and  the  respect  due  his 
master.  That  event  happened  when  in  full  retreat,  on  horse 
back,  from  the  Indians,  after  a  frightful  defeat  and  massacre. 
The  two  came  upon  a  swamp.  The  Colonel,  reining  up  his  steed, 
turned  to  Shack  and  said  ; 


OLD  SHACK.  83 

"Well,  Shack,  what  shall  we  do  here?'' 

"  Lor  bress  you,  massah,  dis  no  place  toconversate  !"  cried  the 
poor  negro,  driving  past  his  master  and  plunging  into  the  swamp, 
for  in  the  distance  he  heard  the  yells  of  the  pursuing  red  men. 

Fortunately,  the  Indians  missed  their  trail  and  went  off  to  the 
left,  leaving  the  Colonel  to  pull  his  servant  out  of  the  quagmire. 

Much  of  my  boyish  entertainment  consisted  in  tricks  played 
upon  old  Shack.  He  was  extremely  superstitious,  and  generally 
attributed  my  doings  to  the  active  interference  of  Satan. 

I  remember  once  coming  upon  Shack  in  a  deep  snow,  engaged 
in  hauling  a  sled-load  of  hickory  fuel  from  the  woods  to  the  house. 
He  was  riding  one  of  the  horses  while  leading  the  other,  and  so 
engaged  with  the  team  that  he  passed  without  seeing  me.  I  ran 
after  and  got  upon  the  load  and  then  went  to  work  throw 
ing  it  off,  a  stick  at  a  time,  without  his  knowledge,  until  all  was 
gone,  when  I  jumped  off  and  saw  the  old  man  pull  the  empty 
sled  solemnly  into  the  wood-house.  A  moment  after  I  came  upon 
the  scene  and  saw  Shack  regarding  his  empty  sled  with  a  ludicrous 
expression  of  amazement  no  words  can  describe. 

"What's  the  matter,  Shack?"  I  asked,  with  assumed  inno 
cence. 

"  I  dunno,"  he  responded,  scratching  his  gray  wool,  while  great 
beads  of  perspiration  started  from  his  frightened  countenance. 
"  You  see,  I  started  from  Hickory  Hollow  wid  a  big  load,  an'  jess 
see  you'self.  I  gits  here  widout  a  stick." 

"You  old  fool/'  I  cried,  "you  loaded  it  so  badly  it  all  fell 
off." 

"No,  Massah  Donn,  dat  ain't  de  way  of  it.  When  I  was  load 
ing  up  in  Hi'kery  Holler  I'ze  smell  somefin'." 

"  Smell  what,  Shack  ?  " 

"  Well,  Massah  Donn,  somefin',  like  brimstone  ;  and  I  hear  a 
voice,  low-down  like,  say,  '  Shack,  Shack.  Shack/  tree  times.  Den 
I  got  on  dat  Tom  horse  and  got  out  ob  dat  holler  mighty  quick,  I 
tell  ye.  Den  all  of  a  sudden  I  hear  somefin',  as  if  dat  wood  was 
agoin',  and  I  didn't  dar  look  round  foh  feah  de  devil  take  me  too." 

"Why,  Shack,  what  an  old  liar  you  are  !  What  did  the  devil 
want  with  your  wood  ?  " 


84  OLD  SHACK. 

"  Why  to  toast  wid,  of  course.  I  spec  he's  mighty  nigh  out  of 
cord-wood  dis  winter,  and  dat  ole  hi'kery  berry  good  for  dat  pur 
pose." 

I  am  afraid  I  hastened  the  demise  of  this  old  man  by  the  last 
trick  I  played  upon  him  before  I  was  sent  away  to  school.  He 
was  the  cause  of  my  getting  a  severe  thrashing,  and  I  set  about  his 
repayment.  While  studying  up  my  way  to  do  this  I  caught  a  huge 
tom-cat,  that  had  forsaken  the  ways  of  civilized  life,  in  a  box-trap 
set  for  coons. 

Now,  it  was  in  midsummer  and  Shack  slept  in  a  little  log-cabin 
built  by  himself,  that  had  a  clapboard  roof.  I  spent  nearly  a  day 
getting  Tom,  the  cat,  into  an  old  boot,  head  foremost,  with  noth 
ing  protuding  from  the  top  but  Tom's  stiff  and  indignant  tail. 
At  night,  in  the  bright  light  of  a  harvest  moon,  armed  with  a 
stout  cord,  and  holding  to  my  infuriated  prisoner,  T  softly  clam 
bered  to  the  roof  of  Shack's  cabin.  Cautiously  removing  the 
loose  clapboards  I  made  a  hole  immediately  above  the  sleeping 
body  of  the  Revolutionary  body-servant.  Looking  down  I  could 
see  the  old  man  sound  asleep  in  the  moonlight  that  streamed 
through  his  cabin  window.  I  tied  the  end  of  my  cord  to  Tom's 
tail  and  let  him,  yowling,  down  upon  the  countenance  of  my  enemy. 

Fortunately  for  Shack  the  infuriated  cat  struck  the  head-board 
instead  of  the  face  aimed  at.  The  scratching  and  yowls  awakened 
Shack,  and  he  arose  just  as  I  pulled  Tom  up  for  a  second  and  more 
accurate  aim.  Shack  saw  the  cat  flying,  as  it  were,  in  mid-air  above 
his  head,  and  with  a  wild  yell  of  fright  he  rose  up  in  time  to  get 
four  claws  scratched  through  his  gray  wool.  He  fled  through  the 
door  towards  the  house,  using  every  breath  he  could  catch  into  his 
lungs  in  such  a  yell  as  never  had  been  heard  since  the  Indians  left  us. 
I  hastily  pulled  up  my  cat,  and  cutting  the  cord,  saw  and  heard  it  go 
over  the  roof  to  the  ground  with  a  scratching  noise  that  indicated 
quite  a  destruction  of  clap-boards.  Hastily  descending,  I  sought 
my  own  bed,  from  which  I  came,  very  like  the  rest  of  the  family, 
in  wonder  at  old  Shack's  disturbance.  It  would  have  been  taken 
as  a  bad  dream  but  for  the  old  negro's  scratched  and  bleeding 
countenance.  As  it  was,  it  remained  a  mystery  for  years,  and  Shack 
to  the  day  of  his  death  told  how  "de  debil  come  fru  de  roof/'  and 


OLD  SHACK.  85 

every  time  he  told  the  tale  he  added  more  horns,  bigger  eyes,  and  a 
larger  assortment  of  tales  to  the  apparition. 

Poor  old  Shack  !  his  form  lies  mouldering  in  the  old  graveyard, 
and  on  the  mossy  tombstone  one  can  yet  read.  "  Well  done,  tliou 
good  and  faithful  servant.''  It  is  just  as  well  we  should  think  so. 
Old  Shack  certainly  did. 


THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE  CITY. 

NOVEL   IX. 

LILLIAN  STUBBS,  sales-lady,  as  she  called  herself,  stood  irres 
olute,  for  a  moment,  behind  the  storm-doors  of  that  fashionable 
emporium  known  as  Dunn,  Dusenberry  &  Co.  It  was  the  hour 
for  closing,  and  counters  were  being  draped  and  lights  extin 
guished  by  the  many  clerks,  preparatory  to  locking  up  that 
vast  establishment  for  the  night. 

Well  might  Lillian  Stubbs  hesitate  making  her  plunge  into 
outer  night,  for  it  was  a  cruel  cold  one,  and  a  furious  December 
storm  was  tossing  it  about.  Pulling  the  hood  of  her  waterproof 
closer  about  her  head,  and  clutching  both  shawl  and  light  rubber 
together  in  front,  so  as  to  shield  her  thin,  naked  hands,  she  bolted 
at  last  into  the  tumult  outside. 

It  was  an  awful  night.  About  dark,  a  qu;et,  well-behaved 
snow-storm  set  in,  and  flakes  like  feathers  fell  into  the  murky 
streets.  Some  roystering  winds  that  were  making  a  night  of  it  far 
to  the  north,  hearing  of  the  "  beautiful  snow,"  hurried  down  and 
went  to  ruffling,  chasing,  and  blowing  the  lovely  thing  to  and  fro 
in  the  wildest  glee.  They  did  this  while  shaking  shutters,  swing 
ing  old  creaking  signs,  and  knocking  venerable  chimney-tops  into 
the  street.  They  drove  to  shelter  all  citizens  possessed  of  homes, 
while  the  belated  ones,  or  the  unfortunates,  were  pursued  and 
buffeted  with  a  fiendish  delight  that  found  expression  in  wild 
shrieks ;  and  up  the  street  and  over  the  house-tops  they  would 
sweep,  meeting  other  winds  tearing  round  corners  and  whirling  into 
each  other,  making  lesser  storms  that  sent  up  in  circles  snow,  soot, 
and  lighter  garbage  far  into  the  murky  night.  The  gas  lights  on 
the  streets  sputtered  discouraged,  like  tallow-dips  burned  to  the 
socket. 

Through   this  tempest  Lillian   Stubbs,   sales-lady,   struggled 


THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE   CITY.  87 

along.  At  times  the  winds  seemed  to  seize  and  hurry  her  on  ;  at 
others,  they  woul  1  smite  her  in  front  and  make  her  fairly  reel, 
while  pulverized  ice  mountains  appeared  to  penetrate  her  thin 
wraps,  until  her  little  white  teeth  fairly  chattered. 

Our  slender  heroine  had  gained  the  corner  of  Elm  and  Sixth, 
when  she  unhappily  stepped  upon  an  icy  gutter  her  feet  slipped 
from  under,  and  she  fell  with  cruel  force  upon  the  frozen  pave 
ment.  For  a  second  she  lost  consciousness,  and  when  she  recovered 
a  ftrong  arm  was  lifting  her  from  the  ground. 

"Much  hurt,  Miss?"  asked  the  kind  voice  above  the  strong 
arm. 

"  I  guess  not/'  she  gasped   in  reply. 

The  gas  above  shown  clear,  in  spurts,  upon  her  pale,  wet  face, 
and  by  the  same  light  she  saw  one  half  hid  in  a  muffler,  sur 
mounted  by  a  silk  hat,  that  seemed  nailed  to  the  head,  while  the 
overcoat,  buttoned  to  the  chin,  was  of  some  light-colored  cloth. 
The  thought  flashed  through  her  mind,  half  stunned  as  it  was, 
that  her  sympathizer  was  a  swell. 

"Going  far  ?v  again  asked  the  voice. 

"  Liberty  Street,"  she  answered. 

"Better  take  a  car." 

"  If  you  please." 

One  of  these  family  carriages  of  the  people  at  that  instant  came 
slowly  jingling  along.  The  man  hailed  it ;  and,  half  carrying  his 
charge,  thrust  her  on  the  platform  into  the  crowd  that  thronged  the 
entrance.  He  elbowed  and  pushed  his  way  until  the  girl  was  well 
in,  and  then  he  paid  the  conductor  for  both. 

"  Get  up  there,  will  you?"  he  said  to  an  old  fellow  comfortably 
seated.  "  This  gull  has  h:;d  a  tumble,  and  is  hurt/'  The  aged  party 
slowly  complied,  and  the  gallant  rescuer,  after  a  searching  look  at 
his  charge,  fought  his  way  out,  and  jumped  from  the  moving  car. 

The  vehicle  was  densely  crowded.  Fifty  people  made  a  dead 
weight  behind  the  weary  mules,  that  a  brutal  driver  of  a  brutal 
corporation  was  whaling  along.  It  was  hard  on  the  mules,  but  kind 
to  Lillian,  for  the  cro-.vd  made  the  interior  warm  to  her.  Of  course 
the  corporation  can  afford  nothing  but  wet  straw  to  accommodate 
a  public  from  which  it  dra^s  its  comfortable  dividends. 


88  THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE  CITY. 

Lillian  had  four  squares  to  walk,  after  she  left  the  car,  before 
reaching  home.  Stiff  and  sore  from  her  fall,  she  fairly  stumbled 
into  the  wretched  home,  and  nearly  fainted  as  she  sank  into  a 
chair.  The  house  consisted  of  three  rooms.  Poverty  and  sickness 
drove  the  family  into  one  apartment.  Want  was  written  in  dirt 
over  every  part  of  it.  It  was  warmed  by  fever  and  an  old  cook-stove. 
A  dirty,  dim  coal -oil  lamp  made  privation  visible.  Two  chil 
dren,  gaunt-eyed  and  ragged,  were  scraping  an  old  skillet.  A  half- 
grown,  frowsy  girl  was  turning  slapjacks  on  the  stove.  The  moth 
er,  a  hard,  hook-nosed  creature,  was  doing  up  a  bundle  of  overalls 
she  had  but  finished  at  the  sewing-machine.  On  a  low  bed  in  a 
corner  was  the  father,  evidently  ill. 

"  What's  up  now,  Lil  ?"  he  asked. 

"Got  a  fall  that  broke  every  bone  in  my  body,  and  then  Pm 
frozen  through  and  through." 

"  I  wish  I  could  give  you  a  liitle  of  my  fever.  I  am  burning 
up,"  he  growled. 

"  I  had  to  take  a  car,"  the  girl  continued,  "or  Pd  never  got 
home." 

"  You  did  not  waste  money  on  a  car?"  exclaimed  the  mother. 

"No,  I  didn't,  for  the  swell  that  helped  me  up,  seeing  how 
pror  I  was,  paid  my  fare." 

"  A  swell,  eh  ! "  cried  the  father.  "  He'll  be  around  to  get  his 
pay  out  uv  you,  an'  ef  he  does,  Pll  brain  him  wi'h  my  hammer — 
I  will." 

"  Don't  worry  yourself,  dad  ;  I  can  take  care  of  myself — in  a 
poor  way  ; "  and  she  went  to  eating,  ravenously,  the  heavy  cakes 
her  sister  tossed  to  her,  as  if  she  were  a  dog. 

A  few  days  after  this,  Lillian  was  at  her  post  near  the  gorgeous 
entrance  to  the  fashionable  dry-goods  store  of  Dunn,  Dusenberry 
&  Co.  She  went  on  duty  at  seven  in  the  morning  and  left  at 
seven  in  the  evening.  She  had  a  rest  of  half  an  hour  at  noon,  in 
which  to  eat  her  miserable  lunch,  and,  with  this  exception,  was  on 
her  feet  through  that  long  stretch  ;  and,  when  not  serving  custom 
ers,  was  expected  to  be  busy  brushing  and  rearranging  the  goods 
under  her  charge. 

For  this  labor  she  received  all  of  three  dollars  a  week.     Her 


THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE  CITY.  89 

mother  made  overalls  at  eighty  cents  a  dozen,  and  her  father,  when 
able  t  o  work,  got  a  dollar  a  day. 

AVe  spent  a  great  quantity  of  sympathy — our  money  and  blood 
— in  behalf  of  the  negro  slaves  at  the  South,  born,  through  untold 
generations,  to  unrequited  toil.  We  cannot  see  a  worse  slavery 
here.  The  slavery  that  tortures  in  our  midst  has  our  own  s  nsi- 
tive  flesh  and  blood  that  are  made  to  suffer.  The  negro,  when 
well,  was  fed,  clad,  and  sheltered  by  the  master  ;  when  sick,  he 
was  doctored  and  nursed  by  his  owner ;  when  he  died,  the  slave- 
driver  buried  him.  Our  slaves  feed,  c'othe,  and  shelter  themselves; 
when  sick,  they  nurse  and  doctor  themselves ;  when  dead,  the 
township  buries  and  the  doctors  dissect  the:r  bodies. 

Old  Phmeas  Dunn,  of  Dunn,  Dusenberry  &  Co.,  came  into  life 
on  a  doubt.  Nature  hesitated  whether  to  work  up  certain  refuse 
material  into  a  man  or  a  buzzard.  The  stuff  on  hand  was  not  good 
enough  for  a  human  being,  but  was  too  good  for  a  buzzard.  Na 
ture,  more  from  whim  than  kind  impulse,  resolved  in  favor  of 
a  man,  and  Pbineas  Dunn  was  set  on  end,  with  all  the  cruel, 
grasping  instincts  of  a  buzzard.  Long  slender,  gaunt,  and  greedy, 
he  ha  I  a  stereotyped  smile — a  regular  mask  of  a  grin — for  his 
customers  and  a  real  scowl  for  his  slaves.  To  the  one  he  was  as 
tyrannical  as  to  the  other  he  was  servile  and  obsequious. 

No  one  had  ever  seen  Dusenberry,  no  one  had  ever  known  the 
"  Co.."  a'id  it  was  a  belief  among  the  more  knowing  that  Dusen 
berry  was  dead  and  that  old  Phineas  had  frozen  out  the  "  Co  /'  so 
that  the  entire  firm  walked  the  i  arth  in  the  form  of  the  venerable 
but  not  venerated  Dunn. 

This  hard  old  miser  is  not  alone  in  his  cruel  oppression  of 
helpless  women.  He  makes  one  of  a  large  class  and  that  class 
Christian  civilization  calls  for  instant  suppression.  Women  are 
<  mployed  as  clerks,  not  because  they  are  efficient  and  therefore 
desirable,  but  for  that  they  are  cheap.  Women  customers  hate 
female  clerks,  "salesladies"  as  they  call  themselves  because  the 
main  part  of  the  intense  satisfaction  found  in  shopping  is  in  the 
chaffing  that  is  supposed  to  lessen  prices  and  effect  bargains. 
The  female  mind  is  impressed  with  the  belief  that  her  charms 
can  influence  the  male  specimen  on  the  other  side  of  the  counter. 


90  THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE   CITY. 

Then,  again,  whether  profits  do  accrue  or  not,  it  is  a  mild  sort 
of  flirtation  that  even  the  most  sedate  cannot  resist.  This  is  all 
utterly  rendered  null  and  void  with  a  girl  for  a  clerk.  The  poetry 
of  life  found  in  shopping  is  lifted  from  the  business,  and  with 
it  goes  all  hopes  of  bargains.  Women  instinctively  hate  each 
other,  and  when  the  fair  customer  rustles  majestically  along  the 
centre  of  the  well-stored  display  of  goods  she  feels  as  if  she  were  an 
honest  cruiser  sailing  down  a  double  row  of  armed  enemies  of  a 
piratical  sort.  She  knows  that  she  is  being  gazed  on  with  mali 
cious  eyes,  her  dress  mentally  criticised,  her  movements  commented 
on,  her  pocket-book  measured  and  sneered  at.  When  she  tackles 
one  of  the  enemy,  it  is  with  a  sneer  that  destroys  all  entertainment 
and  banishes  all  hope  of  bargains. 

Therefore  it  is  that  merchants  accept  female  clerks  under  pro 
test,  and  engage  them  only  because  they  a:e  cheap.  The  compe 
tition  that  is  fierce  and  without  reason  favors  enslavement.  For 
one  vacancy  there  are  (wenty  applicants,  and  price  and  labor  no 
consideration,  and  the  poor  creatures  are  abused  in  a  way  to  fill 
houses  of  infamy,  hospitals,  and  graves.  A  man's  tyranny  is  meas 
ured  only  by  his  power  to  abuse.  It  is  not  controlled  even  by  his 
interest.  There  is  something  in  us— God  knows  why  it  should  be 
—that  gives  a  fiendish  pleasure  in  the  torture  of  the  dependent, 
and  when  to  this  we  add  the  miserly  i  stincts  of  trade,  we  realize 
the  white  slavery  of  helpless  w  men. 

We  have,  in  all  cities,  an  army  of  good  women  devoted  to  charita 
ble  work.  Here  is  work  for  them.  Let  them  give  the  Phi1  eas 
Dunns  to  understand  that  they  are  in  danger  of  fashionable  "boy 
cotting  "  unless  they  raise  the  wage  :  and  amend  their  t:  eatment  of 
these  slaves  of  the  yardstick.  Of  course  this  will  not  be  done.  The  e 
fashionable  ladies  who  go  abo  ;t  distributing  stoves,  coa1,  and  flan 
nels,  are  animated  only  by  a  wish  to  see  their  names  in  prkt,  asso 
ciated  with  those  of  high  social  pos'tion,  and  known  as  pi.  blic  bene 
factors.  To  do  anything  so  ra  "ical  and  effective  as  what  I  suggest, 
is  as  wild  as  if  I  were  to  ask  them  to  be  kind  to,  and  conside;ate 
of,  their  own  ,-ervants. 

Lillian  Stubbs,  sales-lady,  ha<l  one  of  the  most  trying  and  un 
healthy  positions  in  the  storehouse.  Near  one  of  the  doors,  and  al- 


THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE   CITY.  91 

most  above  a  register,  she  got  overheated  from  the  one,  and  a  chill 
whenever  the  storm- door  opened  and  let  in  a  column  of  freezing 
air.  Her  feet  were  frosted  from  exposure,  in  her  old  worn-out 
slices,  and  it  was  only  a  question  of  time  as  to  when  she  would  suc 
cumb  and  be  carried  to  the  hospita1. 

Some  days  after  her  fall,  she  was  bu^y  at  her  post.  A  little 
romance  had  woven  itself  hit  •  spider-like  existence,  from  her 
shallow  brain,  over  that  incident.  \Vho  was  it  who  so  kindly  and 
tenderly  lifted  her  into  the  car  t  at  night?  It  was  not  Eeuben 
Springer,  for  he  was  dead.  It  could  not  be  Julius  Dexter,  for  he 
did  not  wear  swell  clothes.  Xor  v  as  it  David  Swinton  ;  he  deals 
only  with  classes.  He  was,  evidently,  a  young  man  in  gorgeous 
apparel. 

While  thus  her  absurd  mind  ran  on  as  she  dusted  and  rear 
ranged  her  goods,  she  noticed  a  man  standing  over  the  register  and 
regarding  her  \\  ith  a  puzzled  expression,  as  if  in  doubt  about  know 
ing  her.  He  was  a  vulgar,  over-dressed  fellow,  of  about  thirty-five 
or  forty,  of  slender  yet  sinewy  build.  He  wore  a  plum-colored 
overcoat,  lavender  kids,  patent-leather  shoes,  and  a  shiny  silk  hat. 
His  face  was  pale,  the  expression  cruel  and  cunning.  He  seemed 
to  solve  his  doubt,  for,  stepping  to  the  counter,  he  said,  in  a  soft, 
low  voice  to  Lillian  : 

"  Glad  you  got  over  your  fall,  miss." 

"  It  wasn't  much."  she  responded,  "  but  I  thank  you  all  the 
same.  I  b  lieve  I  owe  you  for  my  car-fare/" 

"  Xo,  you  don't,  I  was  glad  to  help  you." 

Further  conversat'on  was  prevented  by  the  approach  of  a 
woman,  who,  touching  the  over-dressed  good  Samaritan  on  the  arm, 
said  : 

'•'Come  on  ;  I've  got  what  I  want,  and  I'm  hungry.'' 

Lillian  Stubbs'  knowledge  of  man  was  defective.  She  could 
not  distinguish  a  vulgar  fellow  from  a  fashionable  swell.  But 
when  she  hit  her  own  sex  she  v  as  n:o  e  at  home,  and  in  the  loud 
get-up  of  the  painted  creature  before  her  she  saw  a  soiled  dove 
that  it  was  her  womanly  duty  to  s  one  to  death  at  all  times  and  on 
all  occasions. 

After  that  it  was  seldom  Lillian  walked  home  of  an  evening 


92  THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE  CITY. 

that  she  did  not  huve  the  man  her  companion.  He  had  informed 
her  that  his  name  was  Clarence  Fitz  James  Allen  ;  that  he  was  the 
son  of  a  wealthy  old  duffer  who  had  disowned  him  because  of  his 
refusal  to  marry  a  lovely  girl  said  paternal  duffer  had  selected  ;  and 
he  spun  out  a  dime  novel  about  himself  that  Lillian  accepted  as 
fact,  although  she  felt  rather  than  knew  that  the  fell  w  was  lying. 
Like  the  rest  of  us,  she  believed  that  which  she  wished  to  believe. 
Poor  girl  !  her  life  was  hard,  and  so  hopeless,  that  this  little  episode 
proved  too  precious  to  be  given  up  lightly.  She  felt  satisfied  that 
this  noble  youth  loved  her  ;  and  it  was  the  first  time  in  her  dreary 
life  that  love  came  to  lift  its  hard  realities  into  fairyland. 

Clarence  Fitz  James,  etc.,  was  liberal  with  his  money.  Every 
night  he  took  the  little  shop-girl  to  a  restaurant  and  ordered  a 
sumptuous  repast  for  both.  Clarence  Fitz  James  drank  sparingly, 
and  seemed  anxious  to  get  the  p<>or  girl  to  indulge.  She  touched 
the  beer  gingerly — really  not  liking  it.  But  if  a  fourth  of  a  glass 
set  her  tongue  to  going  more  liberally  than  usual  the  lover  seemed 
delighted.  He  was,  for  some  reason,  deeply  interested  in  the  char 
acter  and  ways  of  old  Phineas  Dunn.  He  listened  eagerly  to  the 
mean  and  miserly  treatment  of  the  clerks.  He  learned  that  the 
old  Shylock  was  too  stingy  and  suspicious  to  h;.ve  a  watchman  on 
the  inside  of  his  store  at  night,  but  kept  two  employed  watching  the 
premises  from  the  outside,  front  and  rear.  He  locked  the  store- 
door  and  the  storm-door  himself,  and  put  the  keys  in  his  own 
pocket. 

One  night  Clarence  Fitz  James,  etc.,  treated  h's  love  to  seats  in 
the  orchestra  at  the  Grand  Opera  House.  After  the  performance, 
he  gave  her  an  oyster  supper,  and  at  that  supper  offered  himself  as 
her  future  husband,  and,  being  accepted,  bound  the  engagement 
by  a  large  diamond  ring,  and  then  made  a  rather  startling  propo 
sition.  It  was  that  the  sales-lady,  his  fiancee,  should  procure  an 
impression  on  wax  of  the  key  to  the  storm-door  of  old  Dunn's  store. 
He  gave  a  rather  confused  and  contradictory  statement  of  why  he 
wanted  this  impression,  but  said  that  it  was  for  a  gent  who  would 
give  five  hundred  dollars  for  the  impression.  Clarence  produced 
from  his  pocket  the  lump  of  wax  on  which  the  impression  was  to 
be  made,  and  as  Lillian  knew  where  the  key  hung  during  the  day, 


THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE   CITY.  93 

it  would  be  easy  to  procure  what  he  desired.  As  soon  as  he  got 
the  five  hundred,  they  should  be  married,  and  then  he  would  take 
his  bride  to  the  palace  of  his  noble  father  and  plead  forgiveness. 

Lillian  Stubbs  was  not  altogether  idiotic,  and  she  understood 
precisely  what  her  lover  meant.  But  the  girl  was  in  love,  and  com 
promised  the  iniquity  by  believing  that  her  noble  lover  was  being 
used  by  some  great  burglar  who  proposed  to  relieve  old  Dunn  of 
some  of  his  surplus  stock.  Her  first  impulse  was  to  denounce  the 
wicked  scheme  and  say  good-by  to  the  man  who  had  proposed  it  to 
her.  But  the  beautiful  ring  glittering  on  her  thin,  hard -worked 
hand,  and  a  glance  at  the  kind,  anxious  face — the  only  face  that 
had  ever  been  kind  to  her — made  her  hesitate,  and  in  the  hesitation 
she  gave  way,  and,  like  many  of  us,  compromised  by  accepting  the 
lump  of  wax,  and  saying  she  would  think  over  it. 

That  night,  or,  rather,  morning,  Lillian  found  her  parents  up 
and  awaiting  her  return. 

"  Well,  you  trollop  ! "  cried  the  paternal  Stubbs,  "  where  have 
you  been  all  this  night  ?  " 

"  Come,  out  with  it/'  added  the  mother,  with  yet  more  wrath 
in  her  demand. 

"  I  have  been  to  the  theatre  with  Clarence  Fit z  James  Allen, 
my  future  husband,"  boldly  responded  the  girl. 

"  Fitz  hell  !  "  roared  the  father  ;  "you  have  brought  your  pigs 
to  a  pretty  market,  to  be  sure.  Xow,  hear  me,  girl.  My  brother 
Tom,  you  know,  is  on  the  force,  and  lie  has  been  here  telling  us 
all  about  it ;  how  you've  been  philanderin  about  with  Peg  Alick, 
the  well-known  house-breaker  and  thief.  What've  you  got  to  say 
fer  yourself,  you  hussy?  If  I  was  able  I'd  take  a  strap  to  you." 

The  poor  girl  was  stunned  ;  she  stammered  and  wept,  and  then 
made  a  full  confession  of  all  that  had  occurred  between  her  and 
her  proposed  husband,  not  omitting  the  diamond  ring  and  the  offer 
of  8500. 

The  father  received  the  story  in  wrathful  blasphemy,  and 
avowed  his  intentions  to  have  the  scoundrel  jailed  immediately. 
The  mother,  however,  was  in  deep  thought.  Five  hundred  dollars 
appeared  to  her  a  great  fortune.  So,  after  the  father  had  exhaust 
ed  wrath  and  epithets,  she  said  : 


94  THE  SALES-LADY  OF  THE  CITY. 

"  I  don't  know  about  thus.  Why  not  get  the  thief's  five  hun 
dred  ?  Let  Lil  put  any  key  on  his  wax,  get  the  money,  and  then 
turn  him  over  to  the  police." 

"Good  enough  !  "  cried  the  father  ;  "serve  him  right.  Do  it, 
Lil." 

And  Lil  did  as  she  was  bidden.  Clarence  Fitz  James,  alias 
Peg  Alick,  took  the  w^x  impression  tenderly,  but  with  eagerness, 
and,  in  proof  of  his  good  faith  and  generous  impulse,  thrust  a  roll 
of  money  in  the  girl's  hand.  Poor  child  !  she  stood  forlorn  amid 
the  ruins  of  her  fairy  castle,  sick  and  indignant  at  the  deception 
practised  upon  her. 

The  mother's  cunning  did  not  end  with  the  capture  of  Peg's 
money.  Giving  her  daughter  fifty  dollars  of  the  treasure,  she 
locked  the  rest  in  an  old  bureau,  and  said  : 

"  We'll  go  to  old  Dunn  and  tell  him  how  we  saved  his  store,  and 
he's  bound  to  promote  you." 

To  the  venerable  Shylock  of  the  yardstick  they  went,  and,  in 
an  interview  in  his  little  private  office,  the  mother  told  her  story. 
It  was  comical  to  note  the  effect  it  had  upon  him.  His  cold,  steely 
eyes  seemed  to  start  from  his  narrow  forehead,  while  his  ash-tint 
ed  face  fairly  mottled  in  pale  splotches,  as  the  revelation  revealed 
the  purposed  crime.  When  the  key  business  was  reached,  he  looked 
up,  with  a  scared  expression,  and  hastily  clutching  the  innocent 
instrument,  he  thrust  it  in  his  pocket.  When  the  story  ended,  he 
gasped  for  breath,  and  seemed  to  be  pumping  his  emotions  from 
some  unknown  depth. 

"  Great  heavens  !  "  he  cried  in  falsetto  spurts,  "have  we  been 
harboring  the  associate  of  burglars  ?  Go  away,  women  !  go  away  !  " 
And  he  hurried  them  through  the  long  store-room  to  the  street, 
looking  anxiously  to  the  right  and  left,  lest  they  should  pilfer  some 
valuables  on  their  way  out. 

"The  nasty  old  sneak  !"  exclaimed  the  mother,  vhen  the 
two  were  alone  ;  "just  to  think  of  serving  us  that  way,  when 
we  saved  him  thousands  !  Never  mind,  Lil,  we  have  the  money, 
and  we'll  dress  up  right  smart  and  get  a  better  place  right 
off." 

The  girl  was  delighted  with  the  proposition.     She  had  seen, 


THE  SALES-LADY   OF  THE   CITY.  95 

day  after  day,  a  gorgeous  wrap  offered  in  a  show-window  in  Fifth 
Street,  at  a  very  low  price,  and  her  female  soul  longed  for  its  pos 
session.  To  this  place  she  led  her  mother.  The  Hebrew  proprietor 
received  them  with  that  insinuating  politeness  peculiar  to  such 
dealers  in  fashionable  raiment. 

"  Dot  berline  vas  made  vur  Madame  Langdry,''  he  claimed, 
"pon  my  shoal  it  vas.  She  made  dot  depositj  ven  she  ordered  it, 
and  den  she  not  like  it,  and  ve  zells  'em  vor  notings." 

The  women,  woman-like,  tried  to  reduce  this  nothing,  and  at 
last  ended  by  offering  one-half  the  price  at  first  demanded.  With 
much  protestation  the  dealer  accepted,  and  Lillian  counted  the 
money  into  his  eager,  and,  I  must  say,  rather  dirty  hands.  After 
receiving  the  money,  which  he  eyed  closely,  he  proposed  giving  a 
receipt,  and  was  gone  so  long  the  women  began  to  wonder  whether 
the  polite  child  of  Israel  could  write.  He  returned  at  last,  accom 
panied  by  a  policeman,  and  put  the  two  unfortunates  in  custody 
for  attempting  to  pass  counterfeit  money  ! 

Our  police,  as  a  general  thing,  is  a  political  body,  developed  by 
our  self-government,  and  is  organized  to  influence,  and,  if  possible, 
control  the  polls,  in  behalf  of  the  party  calling  it  into  existence. 
This  is  its  main  purpose,  and  during  its  leisure  moments,  between 
elections,  it  dabbles  in  arrests  for  crimes.  Xow,  a  criminal  may 
commit  any  offence,  but  one,  with  comparative  safety.  If  the  of 
fender  is  not  a  very  stupid  bungler  he  can  always  compromise  the 
crime  charged  by  a  divide  with  the  sufferer  and  the  police.  The 
one  exception,  in  a  list  running  from  murder  down  to  petit  larceny, 
is  that  which  touches  our  currency.  This  is  a  serious  business,  and 
the  counterfeiter,  or  his  agent  in  passing  false  money,  is  hunted 
down  and  punished  without  mercy. 

The  mother  Stubbs  and  her  poor  daughter  were  hurried  to  the 
lockup,  and  the  detectives,  searching  the  hovel,  found  conclusive 
proof  of  guilt  in  the  $450  of  miserable  counterfeits  concealed  in  the 
old  bureau.  But  for  Uncle  Tom,  of  the  force,  the  two  women 
would  have  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  shyster,  and  found  their  way 
to  the  penitentiary.  As  it  was,  Tom  saw  the  Chief  of  Police,  and 
the  two  interviewed  the  Judge  of  the  Criminal  Court,  and  the  last 
named  ordered  their  release,  retaining  them  only  as  witnesses  against 


96  THE  KALES-LADY  OF  THE  CITY. 

Peg  Alick,  who  had  been  caught  trying  to  break  into  the  fashionable 
emporium  of  Dunn,  Dusenbury  &  Co. 

Before  the  discharge  could  be  effected,  Lillian,  worn  down  by 
hard  work,  and  suffering  from  shame,  excitement,  and  exposure, 
was  attacked  with  fever,  and  carried  delirious  to  the  hospital. 
She  awakened  from  the  delirium,  but  never  raUied  from  the  fever. 
All  that  science  could  do,  in  the  hands  of  skilful  Doctor  Murphy  ; 
all  that  care  in  nursing  by  the  good  Sisters  could  contribute,  were 
at  the  service  of  the  poor  slave  of  the  yardstick. 

They  came  too  late.  She  was  down  with  a  disease  that  baffled 
medicine — that  might  be  called  a  malignant  attack  of  Dunn,  Du 
senbury  &  Co.  She,  who  had  sweated  under  a  heat  of  summer 
that  marked  90°  in  the  shade,  and  scurried  on,  with  wet  feet  and 
frozen  body,  through  the  storms  of  winter,  to  her  twelve  hours' 
daily  toil,  unnoticed  and  almost  unknown,  had,  when  unavailable, 
all  the  care  and  skill  that  are  given  the  most  fortunate. 

Poor  little  homely  wretch  !  There  was  not  much  of  the  heroic 
in  her,  but  it  was  pitiable  to  see  this  great  brute  of  a  world  sacri 
ficing  her  miserable  life  to  its  selfish  greed.  Hour  after  hour, 
fever  wasted  her  form,  and  death  stamped  his  seal  upon  her  ashy, 
pinched  face,  as,  with  half-closed  eyes,  she  heard  the  subdued  roar 
of  the  great  traffic  pounding  along  the  stony  horror  of  the  boul- 
dered  streets,  under  which  she  had  gone  down  to  death.  And, 
while  dying  in  that  warm,  but  bare  and  painfully  clean  ward,  how 
many  thousands  of  her  sisters  were  struggling  in  the  winter's  cold 
for  a  bare  subsistence ;  how  many  thousands,  driven  on  by 
starvation,  were  giving  their  homeless  bodies  to  beastly  gratification 
of  men's  lust.  "  Holy  Mary,  mother  of  God  !  "  when  will  the 
crucifixion  end?  From  the  killing  of  Our  Saviour,  we  go  on, 
through  the  ages,  torturing,  debasing,  and  destroying  those  from 
whose  class  come  our  mothers,  sisters,  and  daughters. 

The  dimmed  rays  of  a  wintry  sun  shone  through  a  curtainless 
window,  in  its  setting,  upon  the  still  couch  that  a  good  sister  ap 
proached  softly,  in  prayer,  to  close  the  glazed  eyes  and  fold  meekly 
upon  the  sunken  breast  the  thin  hands  of  the  Dead  Slave.  Upon 
one  finger  yet  shone  the  Mock  Diamoi  d,  that  gleamed  like  a  mock 
light  from  our  decayed,  Christian  civilization, 


MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,  REFORMER. 

NOVEL    X. 

MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,  Friend  of  Man,  sat  at  his  noon-day 
meal.  The  room  in  which  this  banquet  was  held  indicated  ex 
treme  economy  or  privation  in  its  occupant.  The  ceiling  was  low, 
and  not  much  of  it.  It  started  some  seven  feet  from  the  floor,  ran 
parallel  for  half  the  width  of  the  room,  and  then  seemed  to  get  dis 
couraged  and  fell  away  rapidly  until  but  two  feet  made  its  sup 
porting  wall  at  the  other  end.  One  window  on  that  side,  of  small 
dimensions,  let  in  the  light  to  exhibit  the  furniture  that  was  neither 
choice,  rare,  nor  antique.  A  cot,  thrust  into  one  corner,  met  the 
descend  ng  ceiling  on  one  side,  and  held  a  mattress  of  straw  that 
once,  in  its  early  youth,  seemed  stuffed  with  grasshoppers,  but  had 
evidently  given  up  its  young  elasticity,  and  was  as  hard  as  the 
heart  of  an  alderman.  The  bed-clothes  indicated  former  circum 
stances  of  cleanliness,  while  the  pillow  was  of  that  diminutive  sort 
that  looked  as  if  the  sleeper  had  to  hold  on  with  both  hands  to 
keep  it  from  slipping  up  his  nose  or  disappearing  in  an  ear.  A 
pine  table  and  three  chairs,  if  not  strangers  to  each  other,  of  that 
various  make  that  indicated  second-hand  auction-rooms,  when  the 
drift  of  poverty  gathers  in  a  great  city. 

Montezuma  Hawkins*  banquet  was  in  keeping  with  his  sur 
roundings,  and  consisted  of  a  section  of  bologna  sausage— that  com 
pound  of  red  flannel,  pepper,  and  pork— a  sandwich,  so  called,  be 
cause  of  the  thin  slice  of  dyspepsia  held  between  two  heavy  layers 
of  in  igestion,  and  water  nicely  warmed  by  the  summer  air  in  a 
brown  stone  pitcher. 

The  proprietor  of  this  apartment,  and  the  consumer  of  this  ban 
quet,  ate  rapidly,  ami  as  he  did  so.  he  quite  as  eagerly  turned  over 
the  leaves  and  road  from  a  book  that  he  held  in  hi*  left  hand, 
while  he  helped  himself  to  food  with  his  right, 


98  MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,  REFORMER. 

No  artist  would  select  Montezuma  Hawkins  as  a  model  for  an 
Apollo.  Reappeared  to  be  about  twenty-eight  or  thirty  years  of 
age,  and  he  ran  to  length,  without  the  proportionate  breadth  and 
thickness.  His  front  and  rear  elevations,  as  an  architect  would 
say,  suggested  the  Washington  monument.  His  legs  were  long 
and  slender  ;  his  body  was  long  and  flat ;  his  face  long  and  sallow. 
His  black  hair  fell  in  straight  locks  from  his  high,  narrow  head. 
His  features  were  in  keeping,  the  more  pronounced  of  them  being 
a  nose  not  prominent,  but  of  unusual  length,  with  a  slight  eleva 
tion  at  the  end,  indicative  of  an  inquiring  mind.  The  eyes  were 
prominent,  dark,  and  rather  handsome,  while  his  mouth  and  chin 
exhibited  more  sensitiveness  than  strength.  In  his  movements,  that 
were  restless,  eager,  and  anxious,  Montezuma  Hawkins,  Friend  of 
Man,  struck  a  close  observer  as  the  embodiment  of  a  fever  set  on 
end  and  endowed  with  great  activity. 

Finishing  his  repast  with  a  drop  from  the  brown  pitcher,  he 
took  from  his  pocket  a  brierwood  pipe,  filled  it  with  tobacco  from 
another  pocket,  and,  giving  a  hasty  glance  at  the  sunlight  creeping 
in  at  the  one  window,  he  continued  his  eager  reading  of  the  book. 
In  this  he  was  interrupted  by  a  heavy  knock  upon  the  door,  and, 
before  he  could  say  "  Come  in,"  it  was  thrown  open  with  a  bang, 
and  three  men  entered.  They  were  men  of  red  faces  and  rough 
clothes.  Montezuma  exhibited  no  surprise  at  this  unexpected  intru 
sion.  He  nodded  familiarly  to  them,  and  they  nodded  in  return. 
Two  possessed  themselves  of  the  rickety  chairs,  while  the  third 
seated  himself  upon  the  table. 

"  What's  up  ?  "  asked  the  host,  continuing  to  smoke  and  look 
ing  up  reluctantly  from  his  book. 

"  Notice  to  'tend  a  meetin'  of  delegations  at  the  Brown  Jug  to 
night,  to  consider  what's  got  to  be  done  in  the  comin'  elections/' 
was  the  reply  from  the  man  on  the  table. 

"  That  means  chin  music  and  beer.     Won't  go." 

"  Now  look  here,  Monty/'  said  the  man  ;  "  you  set  up  to  be  a 
reformer,  and  you  don't  reform  worth  a  cent.  When  we  buckle 
down  to  the  collar,  you're  in  the  britchin' ;  when  we're  in  the 
britchin',  you're  strainin'  at  the  collar.  What's  the  good  of 
that?" 


MONTEZUMA  HAWK1XS,  REFORMER.  99 

"  I  give  it  up,"  replied  Hawkins  ;  "  I  am  tired  of  it.  No  two 
of  you  agree  ou  anything  but  beer  and  talk.  There's  no  good, 
Jim  Brice,  in  that.  I  don't  want  beer,  and  I'm  too  busy  for  idle 
talk." 

"  There's  goin'  to  be  something  done  this  time,"  continued 
Brice,  "and  don't  you  forget  it.  But  you  will,  and  be  sorry  for 
it  ef  you  don't  come." 

"  I'll  think  about  it.  Xow  I  must  go.  Time's  up,  fellows  ; 
good  day  ;  "  and  so  the  visitors  and  the  visited  walked  out  to 
gether.  Descending  the  three  flights  of  steep  stairs,  and  gain 
ing  the  street,  Jim  Brice  said  : 

"Take  a  nip,  Monty?" 

"  Xever  nip,  Jim."  And  he  strode  away  as  the  three  turned  in 
at  the  nearest  lager-beer  saloon. 

The  three  men  were  political  agitators  and  lived  mainly  on  the 
agitation.  Professing  to  represent  the  labor  movements,  they 
really  made  three  of  a  large  army  who  had  no  more  to  do  with  the 
sons  of  toil  than  they  had  with  the  Apostles.  Hawkins  had  a 
contempt  for  them  he  did  not  even  care  to  conceal.  It  was,  there 
fore,  through  accident  that  he  attended  the  meeting. 

The  casualty  came  about  in  this  way  : 

There  was  a  girl,  daughter  of  a  widow,  in  straitened  circum 
stances,  very  lovely  and  quite  accomplished,  who  had  won  the 
heart  of  our  hero.  Clara  Callan  had  bloomed  into  womanhood, 
amid  commonplace  and  base  surroundings  ;  but  her  beauty  was  not 
as  much  above  the  humble  life  to  which  she  had  been  born  as 
were  her  educational  attainments.  An  only  child,  the  poor  wido.w 
had  starved  over  scanty  food  and  shivered  under  scant  apparel,  to 
keep  her  daughter  well  clad,  and  at  school.  The  little  girl  re 
sponded  admirably  to  the  demand,  and  became  and  continued  the 
envy  of  her  classmates  at  the  free  school,  and  the  pride  of  her 
teachers. 

This  had  come  to  an  end,  and  the  poor  girl  found  herself 
graduated  into  a  position  not  provided  for,  to  be  either  comfort 
able  or  pleasant.  Too  well  educated  and  refined  for  a  servant,  she 
was  without  the  means  to  live  as  a  lady  ;  and,  looking  down  upon 
the  associates  poverty  furnished,  she  was  shut  out  from  the  more 


100  MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,   REFORMER. 

fortunate  who  could  wait  in  idleness  for  the  husbands  to  support 
them. 

While  in  this  state  of  discontent,  she  made  the  acquaintance  of 
Montezuma  Hawkins.  The  son  of  a  drunken  bookbinder,  the  boy 
had  been  brought  up  to  the  same  work,  and  seemed  born  to  be  as 
sober  and  industrious  as  his  unfortunate  father  had  been  idle  and 
dissipated.  At  the  time  I  introduce  him,  he  was  the  sole  support 
of  a  widowed  mother  and  two  maiden  sisters,  older  than  himself. 
Through  these  sisters  be  came  to  know  Clara,  and  was  soon  her 
devoted  lover.  An  enthusiast  and  hard  student,  the  bookbinder 
gave  her  some  intellectual  life,  and  was  a  relief  to  the  dull  com 
monplace  of  her  pinched  and  dreary  existence. 

The  young  man's  dreams  of  labor  reform  and  the  future  eleva 
tion  of  his  class  through  his  own  exertions,  were  not  only  stimu 
lated  by  his  passion,  but  his  hard,  rough  nature  was  softened  by 
his  love.  Dogmatic,  impatient,  and  irritable  as  he  was  with  his 
fellow-laborers,  he  was  strangely  kind  and  modest  in  the  presence 
of  this,  to  him,  angel,  whose  beautiful  nature  was  to  be  the  sun 
light  of  his  life. 

On  the  evening  I  speak  of,  he  had  dressed  with  the  usual  care 
for  such  visits,  and  went  to  call  upon  her.  She  was  not  at  home, 
and  from  lack  of  aught  else  to  do  he  dropped  in  at  the  Brown  Jug. 
To  his  surprise,  he  found  the  place  crowded  not  only  by  the  rough 
element  common  to  such  places,  but  on  all  sides  by  brother  work 
men  from  different  associations  of  organized  labor.  He  soon 
learned  that  the  matter  under  consideration  was  the  nomination  of 
an  independent  ticket  for  the  approaching  election. 

This  project  of  making  labor  felt  at  the  polls  had  been  long  a 
favorite  with  our  hero  ;  but  every  effort,  in  which  he  was  aided  by 
a  few  earnest  radicals,  had  proved  a  failure,  and  every  year  he  saw 
with  disgust  his  fellow-workmen  fighting  on  one  side  or  the  other 
of  contests  that  had  in  reality  nothing  at  issue  of  interest  to  his 
class.  He  gave  up  at  last  in  despair. 

The  fact  is,  Montezuma  Hawkins,  like  every  other  eelf-made 
man,  had  many  disagreeable  qualities  that  he  took  no  pains  to 
conceal.  His  intense  egotism,  when  opposed,  found  expression  in 
biting  sarcasm  ;  and  if  pressed  further  than  his  short  allowance  of 


MONTEZUMA   HAWKINS,   REFORMER.  101 

patience,  he  would  fiercely  ride  down,  as  it  were,  his  opponent. 
Nothing  but  his  purity  of  character,  deep  earnestness,  and,  above 
all,  his  power  to  think  aloud  on  his  legs — that  his  crowd  sneered 
at  as  "  gab  "  and  yet  admired — made  him  tolerated  at  all.  He 
was  greeted  from  all  sides  as  "  Monty,"  but  seldom  invited  to  join 
any  one  at  the  bar,  and  seemed,  as  he  was,  indeed,  something 
separate  and  apart  from  the  crowd.  The  men  who  called  him 
"Monty"  to  his  face,  styled  him  "  hog  "  after  he  passed.  Haw 
kins,  in  fact,  reciprocated  the  feeling.  He  had  no  confidence  in 
the  crowd  about  him,  and  soon  withdrew,  seeking  his  solitary  den 
to  read,  far  into  the  night,  Henry  George's  fascinating  book  on 
land  reform,  "Progress  and  Poverty." 

While  the  noisy,  half-intoxicated  crew  were  discussing  the 
proposed  movement  at  the  Brown  Jug,  quite  another  sort  of  an 
assembly  had  the  same  subject  before  it  in  a  room  at  a  fashionable 
hotel.  Instead  of  rough  workmen,  or  representatives  of  the  bum 
mer  element  this  collection  was  composed  of  the  so-called  "gen 
tlemen,"  wrhose  clothes  and  conduct  indicated  that  they  owned 
something  beside  themselves,  and  were  easy  in  their  ownership. 

(i  I  tell  you,"  said  a  man  of  some  sixty  years,  whose  bald  head 
shone  in  the  gaslight  like  a  billiard  ball,  "  the  Democrats  are  cut 
ting  into  us  like  the  devil  with  the  Prohibitionists,  and  unless  we 
can  counter  in  a  labor  movement,  we  may  as  well  hang  up  the 
fiddle  and  the  bow." 

"I  know  that,"  responded  a  younger  man,  "and  we've  been 
trying  to  start  it,  but  it  won't  start." 

"  These  paper-caps  have  been  fooled  so  often,"  remarked 
another,  "that  they  are  suspicious  and  indifferent.  They  won't 
listen  any  longer  to  the  old  spavined  hacks  we  have  been  using." 

"  Can't  we  find  a  new  leader?"  asked  the  first  speaker. 

"I  know  of  one,"  said  a  tall,  tliin-visaged  man,  "'if  we  could 
only  bag  him.  He  is  quite  young,  lives  in  a  garret  on  bread  and 
water,  and  wears  clothes  scarcely  decent,  certain!  v  not  comfort 
able,  that  he  may  support  an  old  mother  and  two  sisters." 

"Such  a  fellow  is  no  good/'  chimed  in  one. 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  said  the  thin  man.  '•  I  happened 
to  hear  him  one  night  at  a  free  library  meeting  we  got  up  for 


102  3LOXTLZUMA  HAWKINS,   REFORMER. 

workingmen.  lie  has  the  most  wonderful  voice  and  remarkable 
flow  of  words  I  ever  listened  to.  But  how  to  capture  him  is  the 
question." 

"Money?"  suggested  one. 

"Won't  work.  It  would  be  dangerous  to  try  it.  He's  jusfc 
the  sort  of  a  crank  to  howl  over  the  attempt  on  his  virtue.  Yet 
every  man  has  his  price.  I  have  been  thinking  of  this  and  study 
ing  the  fellow.  I  think  I  see  the  way  to  his  capture." 

"  What  is  it  ?  '' 

'*  There  is  a  devilish  pretty  girl  who,  with  her  mother,  lives 
in  a  tenement- house  of  mine.  He  is  sweet  on  that  girl." 

"  Don't  sec  it,"  said  the  bald-headed  man,  helping  himself  to 
a  glass  of  wine. 

"That's  a  pity/7  dry'y  remarked  the  cadaverous  plotter ;  "but 
I  bel.eve  I  do.  Harry  McLain,  are  you  willing  to  put  yourself  at 
the  head  of  the  labor  movement  ?  '' 

"I?"  responded  the  handsome  young  man  thus  addressed, 
"  What  do  you  mean?" 

"  Come  out  as  an  independent  for  Congress  on  the  noble  work- 
ingman's  ticket.  Your  late  affiliation  with  the  Democracy  will 
make  it  consist." 

"Go  whooping  around  with  a  lot  of  greasy  mechanics?  No,  I 
thank  you." 

"  The  main  run  of  voters  are  greasy,  my  boy,  let  them  be  Re 
publican  or  Democratic.  They  are  all  alike  in  that  respect,  as 
they  are  all  alike  when  it  comes  to  what  they  call  principles.  We 
furnish  the  money,  the  greasy  fellows  the  votes.  It  won't  do  to 
be  nice.*' 

"Don't  take  it,"  said  the  young  man.  '  I  don't  know  any 
thing  about  their  rot.  I  shouldn't  be  able  to  utter  a  sentence  of 
if 

"It  is  easier  picked  up  than  our  rot,  my  boy.  You'll  get  in 
terested  in  it  when  you  come  to  consider  the  subject.  You  may 
think  it  strange,  but  all  the  brain  of  the  country  is  enlisted  on 
that  side.  If  the  fellows  had  a  press,  an  organization,  and  some 
money,  they  would  move  our  bowels,  I  can  tell  you." 

A  lengthy  discussion  followed,  that  held  these  politicians  to- 


MOXTEZUMA  HAWKIM3,   REFORMER.  103 

gether  far  past  midnight.  It  was  determined,  at  last,  that  young 
McLain  should  be  put  forward  as  the  independent  candidate,  and 
his  thin,  Cassius-like  companion  undertook  his  guidance. 

Harry  McLain  was  "  human,  handsome,  and  liable  to  debt." 
His  principal  business  in  life  seemed  to  be  immediate  dissipation 
of  the  fortune  his  overworked  father  had  left  him.  He  had  dabbled 
in  politics,  for  the  sake  of  the  excitement,  and  after  a  trial  of  the 
Democracy  turned  over  to  the  Republicans,  incurring  thereby  a 
character  for  inconsistency  that  no  serious  people  will  tolerate. 
One  may  change  his  opinions  frequently  as  he  will,  he  may  avo  v 
any,  or  live  upon  none,  provided  he  votes  the  ticket  of  his  partv. 
To  vote  the  ticket  is  like  paying  church  dues.  It  is  the  sanctifica- 
tion  of  faith  and  good  works. 

Xot  long  after  the  independent  movement  had  been  determined 
on,  Montezuma  Hawkins  and  his  betrothe  1  were  walking  in  the 
park.  It  was  the  one  source  of  enjoyment  they  could  afford  It 
was  something  more  than  enjoyment  to  the  young  man.  He  was 
deeply  in  love  with  his  Clara,  and  every  moment  in  her  society  was 
an  hour  of  heaven.  Along  the  dreary  pathway  of  life  the  softened 
sunlight  fell  through  the  roseate  atmosphere,  and  flowers  bloomed 
and  sweet  birds  sang,  as  flowers  and  birds  never  bloomed  nor  sang 
before.  It  was  a  strange  thing  to  see  this  elongated  piece  of  ani 
mated  egotism,  this  embodiment  of  sarcasm  and  ill-temper,  this 
fierce  reformer  gazing  at  this  girl,  with  all  the  wistful  humility  of 
a  dog,  living  on  her  slightest  word  and  eager  to  obey  her  slightest 
wish. 

It  was  more  than  stranee,  it  was  pitiable,  when  we  know  that, 
with  all  his  awkward  ways  and  disagreeab'e  self-assertion,  he  had 
a  delicate  brain  in  his  head,  and  a  deep,  earnest,  sensitive  heart 
in  his  bosom.  Of  neither  did  the  little  girl  have  the  slightest 
knowledge,  or  indeed  care. 

On  the  day  to  which  I  refer,  Monty  had  been  promoted  to  fore 
man  in  his  shop,  and,  with  the  increased  wages,  he  thought  he 
might  venture  to  marry,  provided  his  bride  consented  to  share  the 
house  with  his  mother  and  sisters. 

"  That  is  all  very  good  of  you,  Monty,  dear,"  she  said,  when  the 
plan  was  first  proposed;  "but  what  will  become  of  my  poor  mother  ?  " 


104  MONTEZUA1A  {IAWKINS,   REFORMER. 

Monty  knew  that  the  poor  mother,  so  lovingly  referred  to,  had 
been  running  a  sewing-machine  for  many  years,  so  that  her  daugh 
ter  could  be  kept  at  school ;  and  he  knew  that  to  take  the  daugh 
ter  off  her  hands  would  be  a  relief.  To  undertake  the  support  of 
the  mother  would  be  to  leave  his  own  out  in  the  cold. 

"We  can  get  rooms  of  our  own,  Clara,  if  you  say  so."  he 
pleaded;  "  but  then  they  will  not  be  so  well  furnished,  for  I  must 
continue  my  support  of  mother  and  the  girls." 

"Oh,  Monty,  do  be  more  patient!"  she  cried.  "We  must 
wait  a  while  longer;  something  will  turn  up  one  of  these  days.  We 
won't  always  be  so  poor." 

The  young  man  shook  his  head  and  sighed.  lie  felt  that 
his  ardent  advances  had  been  coldly  received,  and  that  his  good 
fortune,  found  in  tlr*  promotion,  was  treated  with  indifference. 

"  Monty  dear,"  she  said,  after  a  long  silence,  "why  don't  you 
make  more  speeches  ?  " 

"Speeches?" 

"Yes  I  said  that.  You  make  beautiful  speeches.  lam  so 
proud  of  you,  standing  up  making  the  crowd  cheer  and  applaud. 
I  do  wish  you  would." 

The  unexpected  interest  shown  in  him  by  this  angel  of  light 
and  graco  sent  a  thrill  through  him  that  made  him  gasp  almost. 
Poor  fellow!  he  did  not  know  that  it  was  the  whisper  of  the  devil, 
sent  through  his  love.  lie  was  delighted,  yet  he  responded,  after 
a  pause:  "I'd  like  to  please  you,  Clara,  but  there's  nothing  in  it. 
I  am  beset  every  day  by  fellows  urging  me  to  take  the  stump  for 
the  Independents." 

"Oh,  do,  Monty  !  I  wish  you  would;  I  wish  you  would,  for 
me." 

This  was  an  unexpected  interest  in  a  subject  never  before  in 
dulged  in,  and  Monty,  looking  at  her  surprised,  asked  what  on 
earth  had  given  her  such  a  liking  for  politics. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  !"  she  replied.  "Yes,  I  do.  A  friend 
told  me  that  if  you'd  come  out,  it  would  be  a  great  success." 

"What  friend  is  so  complimentary  of  my  poor  powers?"  he 
asked. 

She  colored,  stammered,  and  then  said  that  it  was  her  mother. 


MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,   REFORMER.  105 

"No,"  she  added,  "  it  was  not  mother.     It  makes  no  odds  who 
it  was.     I  want  you  to  make  the  speeches." 

"I  will,  if  you  wish, "  he  replied. 

She  actually  kissed  him  for  his  compliance,  and  the  kiss 
sealed  the  compact.  That  night  he  reported  at  the  headquarters 
of  the  Independents,  and  was  almost  immediately  launched  in  the 
canvass. 

The  display  of  vitality  exhibited  by  the  noble  working  men  in 
this  contest  was  unparalleled.  '1  he  headquarters  were  thronged, 
the  night  air  poisoned  by  torchlights  of  processions.  Brass  bands 
stunned  the  ears,  while  at  stands  erected  in  the  open  air  meetings 
were  held,  t')  which  came  the  torchlight  processions,  and  from 
which,  night  after  night,  the  Hon.  Harry  McLain  and  Montezuma 
Hawkins,  workman,  as  he  was  styled,  i  eld  forth,  on  the  wrongs 
of  the  toiling  millions.  Of  the  t\vo  orators,  our  friend  Monty  was 
far  the  more  popular.  As  a  mere  deolaimer.  he  was  the  best  I 
ever  hear  t.  His  clear,  sweet  voice  was  equalled  by  his  happy  fa 
cility  of  expression,  in  which  the  choicest  words  seemed  to  fit  in 
and  flow  out  on  tue  sentences,  as  if  a  great  composer  had  inspired 
a  great  piece  of  music.  The  crowds  responded  with  cheers  to  his 
impassioned  appeals.  And,  really,  to  those  who  knew  him  pe  - 
sonally.  it  was  remarkable  how  he  changed  in  appearance  when 
under  the  spell  of  his  own  inspiratio  .  His  sallow  face  flushed, 
his  dark  eyes  gleame  !,  while  his  gesticulations  were  not  only  ap 
propriate  but  graceful. 

He  was  soon  carried  a'ong  by  the  excitement  he  aided  in  creat 
ing,  and  what  began  in  a  wish  to  gratify  the  girl  he  loved,  soon 
passed  to  an  earnest  and  intense  belief  in  his  effort.  He  first 
neglected,  and  then  quite  ahandone  ,  his  workshop,  for  the  pro 
prietor  happened  to  be  a  Democrat,  and  was  quick  to  reseat 
a  movement  calculated  to  de  eat  his  party.  During  the  day  Haw 
kins  was  busy  preparing  and  mailing  documents  ;  at  night  he  was 
either  on  the  stand  addressing  crowds  in  the  open  air.  or  visiting 
lodges  and  unions,  where  he  urged  all  his  fellow-laborers  to  take 
part  in  the  good  cause. 

The  labor  movement  represented,  of  course,  only  one  fourth  of 
the  conflict  going  on.  Three  other  parties  were  as  busily  at 


106  MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,   REFORMER. 

work,  and  had  our  oratorical  friend  been  less  carried  away  by  his 
zeal,  and  given  closer  attention  to  what  other  cool  lookers-on  saw, 
he  might  have  found  a  difficulty  in  separating  the  torchlight  pro 
cessions  of  the  Democrats  from  their  own  ;  and  a  Prohibitionist 
would  as  well  have  seen  in  amazement  the  Democrats  and  Tem 
perance  men  so  mixed  at  the  meetings  as  not  to  be  distinguished. 
One  fact  Hawkins  did  observe  and  puzzle  over — that  was  the  lib 
eral  expenditure  of  money.  Some  one,  or  ones  were  paying  for 
the  long  processions,  fireworks,  and  free  bars  of  lager-beer  saloons. 
Hawkins  got  no  solution  to  the  mystery,  nor  did  he  make  much 
effort  in  that  direction.  Our  Roman  virtue  softens  in  the  light  of 
our  own  desires.  If  the  enemy  was  furnishing  means  to  further 
their  own  destruction,  Heaven  forbid  that  they  should  be  even 
discouraged,  let  alone  exposed. 

Hawkins'  fame  as  an  orator  spread,  and  men  and  women  who 
cared  nothing  for  the  cause  gathered  about  the  stand  to  hear  the 
silver-tongued  advocate.  It  was  common  for  the  Hon.  Harry  Mc- 
Lain  to  open  with  a  neat  speech,  made  up  mainly  of  solemn  com 
monplace.  Afterward,  Montezuma  would  address  the  crowd  for 
an  hour  or  an  hour  and  a  half.  The  audience  never  seemed  to 
weary  of  his  declamation,  that  was  lit  by  flashes  of  sarcasm  that 
brought  out  hearty  responses  of  laughter  and  cheers. 

The  orator  knew  that  Clara  was  among  the  listeners,  and  the 
knowledge  inspired  him.  After  a  time  he  missed  Iier  sweet, 
upturned  face,  and  became  to  notice  that  his  honorable  associate 
also  disappeared  from  the  platform  and  \\as  seen  no  more  that 
night.  He  did  not,  however,  connect  the  two  facts. 

Election  day  came  and  the  vote  was  heavy  ;  it  almost  equalled 
that  of  a  Presidential  contest.  That  night,  Montezuma  observed. 
much  to  his  surprise,  that  while  the  Democratic  and  Republican 
headquarters  were  crowded  with  eager,  noisy  people,  his  own  were 
almost  deserted.  A  few  stupid  cranks  alone  hung  about  the 
tables,  and  got  no  returns.  The  fact  was,  that  the  Prohibition 
rendezvous  was  in  about  the  same  condition.  Finding  that  he 
could  get  no  returns  at  either  place,  he  hurried  to  the  Republican 
headquarters.  They  were  coming  in  freely,  and  full  statements 
were  given  of  Democratic  and  Republican  votes,  hut  few  or  none 


MOXTEZUMA   HAIVKIXS,   REFORMER.  107 

of  the  Independent  ticket.  While  wondering  at  this,  he  encoun 
tered  his  own  boss  of  the  bookbindery  where  he  was  employed. 

"Well,  Monty/'  he  said,  wrathfully,  "I  'spose  you  made 
enough  to  do  without  work,  laboring  for  those  thieves.  Anyway, 
I  don't  want  you  any  more." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  demanded  Hawkins. 

"  Oh  !  don't  play  innocence,  damn  you  ;  it  won't  go  down," 
and  the  man  turned  his  back  upon  him. 

Monteznma  soon  had  confirmation  of  the  fact  asserted.  He 
was  congratulated  on  all  sides  by  half-drunken  politicians  for  his 
success  in  fooling  the  Democracy.  He  awakened  to  the  dismal 
fact  that  he  had  been  sold  by  the  very  class  he  had  sought  to  de 
stroy.  The  choicest  efforts  of  his  brain,  the  noblest  impulses  of 
his  heart,  had  baited  a  vulgar  trap,  and  he  had  been  the  ridiculous 
victim  of  a  miserable  cheat — that  all  saw  but  the  victim. 

Weary  of  body  and  sick  at  heart,  the  poor  fellow  wended  his 
way  along  the  fashionable  street  to  his  humble  garret.  Feeling 
his  humiliation  and  shame,  he  fairly  shrunk  into  the  shadows  of 
the  lofty  houses  all  aglare  with  light.  All  was  lost  to  him  but  one 
sweet  hope,  that  in  this  dark  hour  seemed  his  resurrection  and  his 
life.  Above  the  dark  cloud  of  adversity  shone,  like  a  star  in  a 
space  of  blue  heaven,  the  face  of  Clara,  his  love.  After  all,  what 
was  the  worth  of  these  shadows  with  such  a  consolation  ? 

At  the  moment  this  thought  shot  through  his  frame  and  lifted 
his  manhood  into  his  better  self-respect,  while  he  was  saving  to 
himself,  "In  all  this  world  I  have  but  one  who  believes  in  and 
loves  me,  but  that  one  is  an  angel  worth  them  all/'  he  happened 
to  look  up  and  into  a  plate-glass  \\indow  of  a  fashionable  restau 
rant.  He  started  as  if  a  wave  of  electricity  had  been  shot  into 
him.  At  a  little  table,  laughing  and  eating,  he  saw  two  people. 
One  was  unmistakably  his  friend  and  brother-orator,  Harry  McLain, 

but  the  other .  A  mist  came  upon  the  poor  fellow's  eyes, 

and,  amid  the  falling  sleet — for  winter  had  suddenly  come  upon 
the  town — he  staggered  against  a  lamp-post  and  stared  as  if  dis 
traught.  It  was  the  face  of  Clara— his  Clara,  his  love  !  But,  oh, 
how  changed  !  Rich  feathers  fell  over  her  lovely  face,  costly 
jewelry  adorned  the  white  column  of  her  neck,  a  rich  dress  partly 


108  MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,   REFORMER. 

exposed  the  snowy  precipice  of  her  dazzling  shoulders ;  and  she 
gazed  with  those  soft,  dreamy  eyes  on  this  man  as  she  had  never 
looked  upon  the  poor  bookbinder.  Great  God  !  what  a  revelation 
and  revolution  ! 

How  poor  Montezuma  got  to  his  garret  he  could  not  have  told 
himself.  He  did  get  there.  Lighting  his  lamp  with  mechanical 
impulse  and  precision,  he  set  it  upon  the  table,  and,  taking  a  key 
from  his  pocket,  unlocked  and  opened  an  old  box.  From  tlas  he 
took  a  package  of 'notes  and  letters.  Well  worn  they  were,  those 
oft-read  missives.  Then  he  picked  out  some  little  womanly  pres 
ents — poor  in  material,  but  delicately  wrought  by  female  fingers, 
that  seemed  to  weave  in  the  threads  the  tenderest  affections  of  the 
worker.  For  nearly  an  hour  he  sat  with  these  things  in  his  trem 
bling  hands,  and  gazed  upon  them  with  a  dead,  stony  expression 
that  was  pitiable.  He  was  too  strong  to  weep,  too  weak  to  kill.  His 
neck  was  slender,  and  the  base  of  his  skull  was  not  rounded  out 
with  those  animal  passions  that  make  the  man  feared.  And  so, 
between  the  two,  he  suffered  an  agony  that  would  have  made  that 
of  the  cross  itself  a  lesser  punishment. 

Rising  wearily  at  last,  he  left  his  room  without  extinguishing 
the  lamp,  and  strode  on  through  the  night  and  the  storm  to  the 
house  occupied  by  Clara.  Ascending  two  flights  of  stairs,  he 
paused  upon  the  landing,  and  shrunk  into  one  corner,  where, 
crouching  down,  he  could  remain  concealed.  He  knew  instinc 
tively  that  Clara  had  been  taken  to  some  place  of  amusement,  and 
shuddered  with  horror,  not  with  cold,  at  the  thought  of  how 
much  longer  than  the  play  would  take  he  would  have  to  wait  her 
return. 

Hour  after  hour  went  slowly  by.  He  heard  the  noises  of  the 
street  die  out,  and  ever  and  anon  some  people,  in  groups  or 
singly,  would  come  up  the  steps  and  pass  him.  Once  a  female 
garment  swept  across  his  knees,  and  he  heard  doors  open  and  shut 
as  the  lodgers  of  the  building  sought  their  rooms.  At  last,  away 
past  midnight,  he  heard  wheels  rattle  up  and  stop  at  the  entrance 
below.  There  was  a  gleam  of  light,  his  quick  ear  caught  the  low 
uttered  "  Good-night,"  and  then  the  light,  well-remembered  step 
upon  the  stairs. 


MONTEZUAIA  HAWKIXS,   REFORMER.  109 

It  was  Clara.  She  paused  on  the  landing,  without  seeing  him 
of  course,  and  opened  the  door  with  a  night-latch,  that  she  handled 
so  delicately  that  she  had  entered  before  he  was  aware.  Fortu 
nately  she  left  the  door  ajar,  and  he  noiselessly  followed.  She, 
dexterously  striking  a  match,  lit  a  lamp,  and  the  haggard,  love- 
stricken  man  stood  before  her.  Her  clamped  teeth  caught  the 
scream  her  heart  sent  up,  and  she  seized  a  chair-back  to  keep 
from  falling. 

"Oh,  Monty!"  she  exclaimed,  in  an  undertone,  "  how  you 
frightened  me  ! " 

"  Clara  ! "  he  said.  His  low,  sweet  voice  seemed  to  thrill  through 
her,  as  he  touched  the  rich  sealskin  sacque  that  had  partly  fallen 
from  her  shoulder.  "  I  don't  ask  whore  you  got  this  livery  of  hell. 
I  have  only  to  say  that,  in  getting  it,  you  walk  over  the  body  of 
the  one  honest  man  who  loves  you  better  than  life. " 

The  girl's  face  flushed  and  then  paled,  showing  out  in  painful 
contrast  the  rouge  upon  her  cheeks.  Then  she  wailed  piteously, 
as  the  tears  started  from  her  eyes  : 

"  Monty,  Monty  !  don't  be  hard  on  me.     I  could  not  help  it." 

"  Oh,  no,"'  he  responded  bitterly;  "  you  would  rather  be  a  rich 
man's  mistress  than  a  poor  man's  wife." 

"  Don't  be  hard  on  me  !  don't  be  hard  on  me  !  I  pity  you, 
Monty — and,  oh  !  God,  I  pity  myself.  But,  Monty,  I  would  have 
been  only  a  burden  to  you.*' 

And  the  tears  streamed  from  her  eyes. 

"Clara,"  he  said,  taking  her  hand,  "come  to  me  yet — come 
now.  I  love  you,  Clara.  I  never  knew  till  this  hour  how  much 
I  love  you.  Now  don't — don't  say  anything.  Wait,  think— you 
hold  my  life  in  your  little  hands.  That  man  don't  love  yon.  We 
will  forget  him."  And  no  dumb  creature  begging  for  its  life  ever 
put  in  an  eager  face  such  a  piteous  expression  of  appeal. 

I  am  sorry  to  write  of  the  miserable  condition  of  my  po  r  hero. 
I  am  p. lined  to  add  that  his  crawling  humility  was  met,  on  the 
part  of  the  girl,  with  a  feeling  of  disgust  and  aversion.  Had  he 
g-  'ne  out  and  killed  the  betrayer ;  had  he  even  flung  her  tokens 
and  gifts  in  her  faco,  as  he  had  intended,  he  would  have  stood  a 
oetter  chance  for  the  wicked  and  ruined  love  he  solicited.  Clara 


110  MONTEZUMA  HAWKINS,   REFORMER. 

crowded  down  her  disgust,  and,  woman-like,  threw  a  grace  over 
her  refusal. 

"  Monty/'  she  said,  "  I  love  you  too  well  to  listen,  I  can  de 
grade  myself;  I  cannot  degrade  my  husband — for  that  is  what  you 
mean.  Monty,  let  us  submit.  We  are,  as  you  have  said  night 
after  night,  the  slaves — you  to  your  unrequited  toil ;  I  to  my 
shame.  They  own  us,  Monty  ;  they  own  us." 

I  cannot  dwell  on  this  scene.  He  begged,  poor  fellow,  on  his 
knees,  and  the  more  he  grovelled  and  debased  himself,  the  firmer 
she  grew.  Poets  have  sung  of  the  generous,  self-sacrificing  quality 
of  love.  It  is  a  lie.  There  is  no  more  cruel,  selfish,  and  implaca 
ble  passion  given  humanity.  Love  of  the  handsome  Harry  Me  Lain 
made  Clara  a  beast,  and  sent  her  old  lover  down  to  death,  and  she 
knew  it. 

Let  me  make  a  finish  of  the  little  left.  Two  days  after  this 
parting  the  horror  stricken  mot'  erand  sist  rsof  poor  Monty  found 
his  body  in  a  kneeling  position  in  his  garret,  one  end  of  his  sus 
penders  around  his  neck  and  the  other  tied  to  a  hook  in  the  wall. 
The  sisters  saw  through  their  tears,  in  the  suspenders  that  served 
as  a  rope,  a  gift  worked  by  the  fair  fingers  of  Clara  Callan. 


Ill 


THE  WHARF-RAT. 

NOVEL   XI. 

ONCE  upon  a  time  a  slender  little  street  Arab,  without  par 
ents  and  of  course  without  a  home,  who  sold  papers  in  the  morning 
and  polished  shoes  in  the  afternoon,  found  on  an  abandoned  piece 
of  a  raft  an  old  barrel  that  he  converted  into  a  bedroom.  By  shift 
ing  the  open  end  of  his  apartment  to  the  leeward  of  cold  nights, 
and  covering  himself  well  with  shavings  and  straw,  the  poor  boy 
slept  the  sleep  of  peace  and  innocence.  The  rain  pattering  upon 
his  barrel  and  the  dashing  waves  of  the  great  river  only  lulled  his 
slumbers  to  a  deeper  rest :  and,  although  he  did  not  thank  God 
for  his  shelter — for  the  waif  was  untaught — he  had  about  the  same 
sense  of  thanksgiving  that  a  bird  or  houseless  dog  might  have  on 
finding  a  safe  retreat  from  harm. 

The  river  on  which  the  lad  rested  had  extremes  of  high  and 
low  water.  In  midsummer  his  old  wreck  was  high  and  dry  on  a 
sandbar  ;  in  spring  and  autumn  it  rode  upon  the  waves.  One 
morning,  in  an  unusual  flood,  the  old  rotting  structure  broke  away, 
and,  with  its  sleeping  occupant,  swept  out  into  the  stream.  That 
part  of  the  little  fellow,  common  to  all  of  us,  that  never  sleeps, 
wakened  him,  and  at  first  he  was  somewhat  startled  to  find  himself 
and  his  home  on  the  highway  to  New  Orleans. 

He  was  however  a  born  wharf-rat,  and  knew  that  he  could 
plunge  in  and  swim  ashore,  let  the  shore  be  ever  so  far  ;  but  he 
mourned  the  loss  of  his  home.  Like  a  self-reliant,  plucky  little 
chap  as  he  was,  he  determined  to  cling  to  his  possessions  to  the 
last  moment  of  hope  ;  and,  so  resolving,  he  sat  down  and  gazed 
about  him. 

He  gazed  as  well  as  he  could,  for  it  was  yet  night.  The  long, 
heavy  rain-storm  had  passed.  The  stars  were  bright,  shining 
through  the  purified  atmosphere  ;  and  from  either  bank  the  high 


112  THE  WHARF-RAT. 

chimneys  of  manufactories  vomited  red  flames  that  shone  in  paths 
on  the  river,  dazzling  the  eyes  in  places,  and  leaving  all  else  in  a 
deeper  gloom.  The  lad  sat  and  shivered  in  the  cold,  wondering 
much  what  next  would  happen. 

He  was  not  left  long  in  doubt.  Suddenly  a  huge  mass,  with 
gleaming  open  furnaces  and  a  roar  like  distant  thunder,  bore  to 
ward  him.  It  was  a  steamboat,  and  was  coming  so  directly  upon 
him  that  the  lad  made  ready  to  plunge  and  swim  for  his  life  ;  but 
while,  with  a  coolness  his  career  of  self  reliance  had  taught  him, 
he  hesitated,  in  order  to  select  the  side  for  his  swim,  so  as  to  avoid 
the  wheel,  he  realized  somehow  that  the  steamer  was  rounding  to 
for  a  landing.  This  saved  the  little  raft,  and,  although  it  was 
tossed  wildly  in  the  wake  of  the  steamboat,  the  lad  clung  to  his 
old  home. 

While  doing  so,  and  almost  under  the  towering  side  of  the  steam 
er,  he  heard  something  fall,  splashing,  into  the  water.  This  might 
be  a  stick  of  wood  or  a  bucket  of  slops  that  disturbed  the  waves, 
and  the  lad  settled  himself  to  looking  again  at  this  dark  uncertainty 
in  the  face.  The  waves  of  the  steamer  had  floated  his  frail  struct 
ure  out  into  the  stream,  and  our  little  hero  became  aware  of  the 
fact  that  he  was  making  one  of  a  string  of  strange  articles  being 
carried  along  by  the  flood.  In  the  deepening  gloom,  for  he  had 
passed  the  furnaces  that  lined  the  bank,  he  could  not  make  out 
his  neighbors,  other  than  dark  objects  half  submerged,  some  of 
which  grated  and  sawed  against  one  another,  as  if  quarrelling  in  the 
contact,  while  others  moved  on  in  silence. 

The  roseate  streaks  of  day  dawned  along  the  east,  and  soon 
apace  the  sun  came  up  in  clouds,  for  the  bright,  clear  night  dis  p- 
peared  in  a  haze,  and  day's  huge  luminary  seemed  a  larger  moon,  so 
shorn  was  it  of  light.  The  scene  about  our  little  hero  was  not  en 
couraging;  a  vast  yellow  flood  of  water,  spread  above  the  river's 
banks,  opened  on  each  side.  Immediately  about  him  along  streach 
of  floating  trees,  boxes,  barrels,  stumps,  outhouses,  and  pens  swept 
along  with  him,  while  a  steamboat,  brea  ting  the  current,  and 
therefore  keeping  from  the  centre,  came  roaring  along. 

At  the  sight  of  this  source  of  rescue,  the  lad  did  not  cry  out 
or  wave  any  signal  of  distress.  Young  as  his  lii'e  was,  he  had 


THE  WHARF-RAT.  113 

learned  the  bitter  lesson  taught  us  all,  and  that  was  that  to  stop  a 
huge  steamboat  to  rescue  one  little  life  would  be  an  absurdity  quite 
outside  all  Christian  calculations  of  charity.  1  put  the  case  too 
strongly.  The  fact  is,  Eat  Ely,  as  he  was  known  among  his 
brother  newsboys,  did  not  consider  that  he  was  in  any  peril,  only 
somewhat  puzzled  by  the  abrupt  change  being  made  in  his  sur 
roundings.  He  therefore  drew  from  his  barrel  the  provisions  he 
had  put  aside  the  night  before  for  his  breakfast ;  and,  with  sharp 
little  teeth,  went  to  eating  the  chunk  of  bread  and  slices  of 
ham  a  kind  hearted  woman  had  given  him. 

While  thus  engaged  he  happened  to  glance  along  a  tree,  the 
trunk  of  which  touched  his  raft  as  the  two  floated  along  ;  and  he 
saw  resting  on  a  limb  ahead  of  him  th}  body  of  a  man.  Rat 
dropped  his  breakfast,  and,  seizing  the  bark  of  the  trunk  with  his 
muscular  little  hands,  he  pulled  along  until  he  brought  himself 
within  reach  of  the  body.  Resting  for  a  few  moments,  he  then 
seized  upon  the  coat  of  the  man  ;  and,  with  infinite  labor  and  after 
a  long  time,  succeeded  in  rolling  the  body  in  on  his  raft. 

Rat  saw  that  his  find  was  handsomely  dressed.  Indeed,  the 
glitter  of  a  heavy  gold  chain  on  the  vest  made  the  lad's  eyes  fairly 
gleam.  He  was  about  to  seize  it,  when  the  dead  glare  of  the  half- 
opened  eyes  made  him  shudder  and  draw  back.  He  turned  from 
the  body,  looked  over  the  waters,  and  then  went  to  gnawing  at  his 
bread  again.  The  lad  knew  that  at  the  end  of  that  chain  there 
was  a  watch.  He  reasoned  that  a  man  possessed  of  a  watch  must 
have  a  pocketbook,  and  h"  thought  how  cunning  it  would  be  to  pos 
sess  himself  of  the  valuables  and  then  tumble  the  body  back  into 
the  water. 

The  boy  had  about  determined  on  this,  when,  looking  again  at 
his  treasure,  he  saw  a  cut  on  the  man's  head,  which  was  bleeding 
afresh.  While  lie  gazed  the  man  moved.  Rat's  eyes  opened  in 
amazement,  and  he  continued  to  stare  at  the  sufferer  until  the  man, 
a'ter  a  brief  struggle,  sat  up.  The  unfortunate  gazed  in  a  dazed 
way  at  the  lad  for  some  time,  and  then  asked,  in  a  voice  scarcely 
above  a  whisper,  how  he  got  where  he  found  himself. 

"  Fished  ye  out,"  responded  the  boy,  with  a  nod  at  the  river. 

The  man,  drawing  his  feet  from  the  water  slowly  and  with 


114  THE  WHARF- RAT. 

difficulty,  as  if  very  weak,  sat  pondering,  with  the  blood  dripping 
from  his  head,  as  if  vainly  endeavoring  to  pull  his  mind  together. 
At  last  he  pointed  to  the  breast-pocket  of  his  overcoat,  and  said 
in  a  whisper  :  "  Git  it  out/'  Thus  instructed,  the  lad  thrust  in 
his  hand,  and  produced  a  leather- covered  flask.  Unscrewing  the 
stopper,  he  put  the  flask  to  the  man's  mouth,  and  the  poor  fellow- 
drank  eagerly  of  the  contents.  This  seemed  to  revive  him,  but 
brought  on  a  chill  that  shook  him  from  head  to  foot.  Again  and 
again  he  drank,  and  then  offered  it  to  his  preserver.  Eat  Ely  took 
one  swallow  of  the  fiery  liquor,  and  then,  nearly  choking,  handed 
the  flask  hastily  back.  The  man  smiled  faintly,  and  then,  much 
strengthened,  said  : 

"  Well,  my,  lad,  what  can  we  do  now  ?  " 

Rat  pointed  to  a  couple  of  men  in  a  skiff  not  far  off.  One  of 
the  men  was  pulling  at  the  oars,  while  the  other,  standing  in  the 
boat,  was  gazing  at  the  drift  as  if  in  search  of  something  more 
valuable  than  logs.  The  sufferer  on  the  raft  threw  up  his  hand, 
and  the  boat  was  headed  toward  them.  As  it  drew  near,  the  back 
of  the  man  rowing  was  toward  them,  but  the  face  of  the  fellow 
standing  came  in  full  vie \v.  Rat's  companion  hastily  thrust  his  hand 
into  his  bosom,  and  drawing  out  a  Russia  leather  book,  long  and 
flat,  ha1  ded  it  to  the  boy,  telling  him  'n  an  undertone  to  hide  it. 
Rat  thrust  it  under  the  shavings  of  his  bed  in  the  barrel.  The 
bow  of  the  skiff  was  thrust  in  over  the  raft,  and  the  man,  standing 
erect,  asked,  with  an  oath,  how  the  two  got  there. 

"  That's  not  the  question,"  answered  the  rescued,  with  ap 
parent  nonchalance  ;  "  what  we  are  considering  is  how  to  get 
out.  See  here,  men,  I  will  give  you  all  my  money  (some  $80)  and 
a  reward  besides,  to  get  us  safely  ashore." 

The  men  in  the  skiff  conversed  in  an  undertone  with  each  other 
for  a  moment,  and  then  the  spokesman  of  the  two  seized  the 
rescued  and  pulled  him  into  the  skiff.  Rat  Ely  turned  to  secure 
the  hidden  book,  when  the  skiff  was  shoved  off,  leaving  him  on 
the  raft.  He  heard  his  friend  remonstrating  as  he  seized  the  arm 
of  the  man  who  liad  pulled  him  in,  and  saw  him  pushed  down, 
and  the  boat  rowed  rapidly  away  toward  the  shore. 

Rat  Ely  felt  angry,  of  course,  but  he  was  so  accustomed  to 


THE  WHARF-RAT.  115 

rough  treatment  in  his  young  life  that  his  indignation  was  short 
lived,  and  he  gazed  after  the  skiff  and  its  occupants  until  they 
were  lost  in  the  hazy  distance.  Then  he  turned  his  attention  to 
his  own  unpleasant  condition.  After  a  time,  he  drew  the  book 
from  the  barrel,  and,  opening  it,  found  a  mass  of  water-soaked 
papers.  The  boy  could  not  read  print,  although  a  newsboy,  let 
alone  writing,  but  he  tenderly  unfolded  the  sheets  and  spread 
them  out  to  dry.  As  the  sun  rose  brighter  in  the  heavens,  the 
mist  lifted  and  disappeared,  giving  way  for  the  warm  rays  to  assist 
in  the  task.  The  papers  soon  lost  their  dampness  ;  but  the  leather 
case  remained  so  wet  for  hours  that  he  could  not  replace  the 
documents  This,  however,  was  at  last  accomplished,  and  the 
boy,  lost  in  replacing  the  papers,  did  not  notice  a  boat  that,  ap 
proaching,  gave  out  a  hearty  hail.  Looking  out,  he  saw  a  large 
ferryboat,  worked  by  horses,  laden  with  people. 

"What  ar'  ye  doin'  thar?  "  cried  the  man  in  command. 

"Nuthin,"  responded  the  boy. 

"Well,  hurry  through  and  git  aboard.'* 

Rat,  thrusting  the  package  in  his  bosom,  and  picking  up  the 
flask  that  had  been  dropped  on  the  raft,  responded,  and  scram 
bled  up  over  the  side  of  the  boat,  nimble  as  a  squirrel.  No  further 
attention  was  paid  him  by  the  master  of  the  raft.  A  stout  woman 
with  a  kind  face  tried  to  draw  out  of  the  boy  some  account  of  his 
adventures,  but,  meeting  with  no  encouragement,  abandoned  the 
attempt.  Eat  watched  his  home  float  off,  but  took  the  loss  with 
the  sense  of  the  inevitable  to  which  he  had  been  trained.  With 
the  same  quiet  indifference,  he  accepted  his  rescue.  The  flood 
had  submerged  the  village  bluff  where  they  landed,  and  while  the 
passengers,  horses,  and  wagons  disappeared  in  the  town,  Rat  re 
mained  upon  the  wharf-boat,  with  his  box  and  brushes  strung 
over  his  shoulder,  well  knowing  that,  sooner  or  later,  a  steamboat 
would  come  puffing  along,  on  which  he  proposed  returning  to  the 
city.  This  happened  in  an  hour  after  his  landing ;  and,  waiting 
his  opportunity  as  the  steamboat  was  moving  out,  he  sprang  aboard 
and  disappeared  among  the  pile  of  boxes  and  barrels  like  a  veri 
table  rat. 

Our  little  hero  returned  to  the  city  and  plunged  again  into  his 


116  THE  WHARF-RAT. 

fierce  fight  for  existence.  He  had  suffered  a  severe  loss  in  the 
great  calamity  of  a  flood  such  as  the  country  had  never  seen  before. 
His  house  was  gone,  and  had  he  been  called  upon  to  make  an  as 
signment  the  remaining  assets  would  not  have  paid  a  cent  on  the 
dollar  ;  but,  as  he  had  no  creditors,  that  formality  was  not  pressed 
upon  him.  Had  he  taken  account  of  stock,  which  he  did  not,  he 
would  have  found  himself  possessed  of  his  health,  brushes,  blacking- 
box,  and  the  indomitable  energy  of  Armand  Richelieu  sung  of  by  the 
lascivious  Bulwer.  Rat  Ely  did  not  read  the  papers  he  dealt  in. 
Certain  striking  features  of  the  sensational  daily  sewers  he  dealt 
out  were  given  him  arid  his  comrades,  and  these  at  that  time 
were,  "All  About  the  Flood,"  and  a  particularly  interesting 
execution  of  a  brutal  murderer  that  the  cultured  wives  and 
children  of  the  reading  public  were  permitted  to  enjoy. 

Had  the  Rat  read  his  wares,  he  would  have  found  that  he  had 
taken  part  in  a  mystery  which  was  then  agitating  the  social  world, 
and  which  told  of  the  strange  disappearance  of  a  prominent 
citizen. 

Mr.  Arnold  Stevens  had  left  Central  Pennsylvania,  where  he 
had  converted  an  inheritance  from  an  uncle  into  bonds  to  the 
amount  of  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and,  returning  home,  had 
diverged  to  a  point  in  Virginia  where  he  had  relations  and  some 
business.  From  this  point  he  had  travelled  to  the  village  of 
Clamdon  on  the  river,  where  he  took  the  steamboat  Helen  Marr 
for  home.  As  the  boat  was  expected  to  land  at  the  city  in  the 
night,  Mr.  Stevens  did  not  retire  to  his  stateroom,  but  spent  the 
time  at  cards  with  three  passengers  in  the  cabin.  When  informed 
that  the  steamboat  was  about  to  round-to  for  the  wharf,  he  went 
to  his  stateroom  to  put  on  his  overcoat  and  secure  his  satchel. 
This  was  the  last  seen  of  him.  As  the  stateroom  opened  upon  the 
guard,  by  another  door,  that  would  be  nearer  the  city,  the  boat 
clerk  supposed  he  had  gone  out  that  way  and  so  got  ashore.  The 
three  passengers  who  had  been  playing  cards  with  him  also  disap 
peared. 

Some  davs  after,  a  lumberman  getting  a  load  of  boards  from  a 
yard  found  Mr.  Stevens'  satchel  cut  open  and  the  contents  scat 
tered  about  the  place. 


THE  WHARF-RAT.  11? 

Here  was  a  clue  to  foul  play  that  the  police  seized  on.  From 
it.  policeman-like,  they  worked  up  a  theory,  in  which  they  were 
aided  by  Mr.  Stevens'  creditors,  to  the  effect  that  the  unfortunate 
man  had  made  off  with  his  fifty  thousand  dollars,  and  had,  \\  hile 
doing  so,  cut  open  his  own  valise  as  a  blind.  It  was  soon  found 
that  a  disreputable  woman  had  disappeared  at  the  same  time,  and, 
although  Mr.  Stevens  left  a  wife  and  family,  to  whom  he  was  ten 
derly  attached,  in  the  deepest  grief  and  financial  distress,  nothing 
could  shake  the  efficient  police  in  their  cunning  theory  and  cruel 
result. 

The  one  little  braia  that  could  have  solved  the  mystery  was  not 
called  on  nor  consulted. 

In  his  ten  years  of  life  the  Rat  had  grown  cunning  and  cau 
tious.  He  had  but  one  hope,  and  that  was  his  dail)  subsistence, 
and  but  one  fear,  and  that  was  the  police.  Once  in  his  life  a 
drunken  Kentuckian  had  given  him  a  valuable  pin.  In  attempt 
ing  to  realize  on  this,  he  had  been  seized  and  sent  to  what  we  are 
pleased  to  call  a  ''  Reform  School  "  for  six  months.  The  little 
Arab  had  not  only  pined  in  his  prison,  but  got  so  much  "reform/' 
bad  food,  and  a  stick  that  he  wisely  resolved  never  to  have  any  "  re 
form  in  his  "  again. 

The  hair-mattressed  and  linen-sheeted  world  that  grumbles  in 
its  morning  rest  at  the  newsboys'  cries  at  daylight,  little  dream  of 
the  privations  from  which  these  ragged  Mercuries  emerge,  yelling, 
as  they  run  along,  the  "news,"  which  the  Hoe  presses  have  been 
throwing  off  at  the  dead  hour  of  the  night.  From  arched  ways 
and  areas,  from  damp  cellars  and  suffocating  tenement  rooms,  half 
clad  and  all  starved,  these  homoeopathic  doses  of  humanity  swarm 
out  with  a  fierce  activity  that  tells  what  they  may  come  to  be  if 
they  grow  to  manhood.  It  is  fortunate  for  ' '  society  r  that  only 
i  he  m  re  rugged  and  tough  survive,  for  there  is  here  the  raw  ma 
terial  being  worked  up  to  feed  jails  and  fill  penitentiaries,  with,  at 
intervals,  the  skull  of  a  born  murd  rer  to  supply  the  gallows. 

Among  these  Rat  Ely  found  place.  His  first  sleeping  apart 
ment  was  in  the  area  of  a  restaurant,  where  the  hot  steam  made 
warm  the  half-dozen  boys  huddled  together,  but  had  the  exasper 
ating — indeed,  at  times,  maddening — odor  of  cooking,  that  brought 


118  THE  WHARF-RAT. 

to  their  empty  stomachs  a  realizing  sense  of  their  keen  demands. 
As  winter  melted  in  the  warmth  of  spring,  the  little  fellow, 
with  a  partner,  found  an  old  store  box  in  the  back  yard  of  a 
shop,  that  they  fitted  up  with  shavings  and  bits  of  old  carpet, 
so  that  it  served  their  purpose  for  the  half-nights  they  gave  to 
sleep. 

Eat  Ely's  wearing  apparel  was  more  comfortable  than  elegant. 
It  consisted  mainly  of  a  woollen  jacket,  a  world  too  wide  for  his 
slender  body,  and  which,  reaching  to  his  knees,  concealed  his  lack 
of  underwear.  In  the  huge  breast-pocket  of  this  he  concealed  his 
treasures,  together  with  such  scraps  of  food  as,  dog  like,  he  could 
gather  from  waste  barrels  set  out  to  be  carted  off  by  dealers  in 
such  refuse.  Of  the  two  treasures,  Ely's  affections  centred  on 
the  silver-mounted  flask  that  he  often  contemplated  with  the 
delight  of  a  miser,  and  from  which  he,  from  time  to  time,  tasted 
sparingly,  quite  pleased  with  the  cheerful  frame  of  mind  that  fol 
lowed.  He,  however,  regarded  with  some  awe  the  book  his  un 
fortunate  friend  so  earnestly  sought  to  hide.  Poor  boy,  he  little 
dreamed  that  he  was  carrying  hid  in  his  bosom  a  wealth  for 
which  many  a  man,  high  in  the  social  scale,  would  barter  his 
soul.  So  little  did  he  know  of  this  that  often,  when  suffering 
from  the  pangs  of  hunger,  he  was  tempted  to  offer  it  for  a  mince 
pie  or  a  slice  of  cake.  He  was  wild  for  sweets,  the  quality  of 
a  healthy  stomach,  as  the  tastes  of  children,  women,  negroes,  and 
Indians  prove.  The  fear  of  the  police  ai;d  the  workhouse  re 
strained  him. 

One  day,  turning  the  corner  of  the  post-office,  he  found  a 
crowd  of  newsboys  and  shoeblacks  gathered  about  something  that 
seemed  to  give  them  great  satisfaction.  Impelled  by  curiosity, 
he  struggled  through  the  ring  of  urchins,  and  found  in  the  mid 
dle  a  little  neatly-dressed  six-year-old  being  baited  by  the  cruel 
fiends.  The  poor  boy,  frightened  fearfully,  stood  pale  and  trem 
bling  in  their  midst,  his  little  store  of  newspapers  tumbled  together 
at  his  feet.  Ely  was  aroused.  Swinging  his  box  viciously  around, 
leaving  bloody  marks  on  noses,  he  cried  out,  with  more  profanity 
than  I  care  to  record:  "Give  the  kid  a  chance  !  give  the  kid  a 
chance  ! " 


THE  WHARF-RAT.  119 

This  diversion  brought  on  a  general  engagement,  that  a  good  • 
natured  policeman  arrested. 

•'  Stop  yer  fightin',  ye  dirty  little  devils,  and  don't  disturb  the 
public  peace! "  exclaimed  the  stout  guardian  of  the  peace  and  dig- 
nitv  of  the  commonwealth,  as  he  knocked  the  contestants  to  the 
right  and  left. 

The  lad  thus  rescued  clung  to  Rat  Ely  as  his  preserver.  The 
Rat  felt  proud  of  his  guardianship  Gathering  up  the  fallen 
papers,  he  conducted  his  ward  to  a  seat  on  the  plaza,  and  consoled 
the  boy  by  telling  him  not  to  be  a  spooney.  The  lad  could  not, 
however,  recover  from  his  scare,  and  begged  his  preserver  to  take 
him  home.  Ely,  without  concealing  his  contempt,  complied.  A 
long  walk  brought  them  to  a  rather  handsome  house,  in  a  hand 
somely-built  part  of  the  city,  and  Ely  would  have  parted  v  ith  his 
ward  at  the  foot  of  the  stone  steps  leading  to  the  front  door, 
but  the  boy  begged  so  hard  to  have  him  enter  that  he  did  so. 
The  door  was  opened  by  a  stout  domestic  in  petticoats,  who 
stared  in  amazement  at  the  ragged  newsboy.  She  made  no  com 
ment,  however.  In  the  hall  they  met  a  little  girl  of  about  twelve, 
a  bright-eyed,  curly-headed  miss,  who  exclaimed: 

"  Why,  Arnold  !  "  and  her  face  expressed  what  her  lips  failed 
to,  as  she  gazed  at  Arnold's  companion. 

"  He  saved  my  life,  he  did  !*'  exclaimed  the  lad,  "and  I  want 
mamma  to  thank  him." 

His  mamma,  thus  appealed  to,  soon  appeared.  She  was  a 
woman  of  about  thirty,  in  whose  pale  face  were  imprinted  lines  of 
grief  and  anxiety.  She  heard  the  story  of  how  her  little  hopeful 
had  started  out  to  make  a  living  for  the  family  by  selling  papers, 
and  how  he  had  been  set  upon  by  bad  boys,  and  would  have  been 
killed  but  for  the  interference  of  this  ditty,  much-coated  little 
Samaritan.  The  good  woman  listened,  as  tears  coursed  their  way 
down  her  pale  cheeks,  and  then,  to  Ely's  alarm  and  great  embar 
rassment,  caught  him  in  her  arms  and  kissed  him.  Rat  had  never 
been  spoken  to  kindly,  let  alone  being  caressed,  and  he  stood  in 
pitiable  trouble  at  the  demonstration. 

"Only  to  think,"  sobbed  the  mother,  "of  my  angel  going  out 
to  sell  papers  to  get  us  bread,  and  you  protected  him  !  God  bless 


120  THE  WHARF-RAT. 

you."  And  then  she  put  Ely  to  the  question  as  to  his  home,  life 
and  all.  As  he  jerked  out  his  short  replies  in  awkward  sentences, 
her  heart  was  still  more  stirred. 

"  No  parents,  no  home,  poor  little  fellow  !  t  is  dreadful/'  she 
exclaimed,  and  then  after  a  thoughtful  pause,  added  :  "You  shall 
have  a  shelter  at  least ;  we  are  poor,  and,  God  knows,  suffering  ; 
but  as  long  as  we,  have  a  shelter  you  shall  share  it.  What  is  your 
name  ?  " 

"Rat  Ely,"  he  responded. 

"  Oh  no,  not  that ;  that  cannot  be  your  name  ?" 

"Yes,  it  is  though;  ain't  got  no  other." 

"  Well,  Ely,  you  return  here  to-nigh^,  and  I  will  have  some 
clothes  for  you,  and  you  shall  have  a  supper  and  a  bed." 

Eat  Ely  took  all  this  without  thanks.  He  had  been  so  roughly 
treated  through  life  that  such  generosity  seemed  suspicious.  He 
looked  inquiringly  at  the  mother,  then  at  the  pretty  girl  from  head 
to  foot,  and  having  reached  the  lowest  extremity,  said  : 

"Shine  'em  up  !" 

The  mo  her  smiled  and  the  little  girl  laughed. 

"No,  my  boy,'"  the  lady  responded;  "but  you  may  in  the 
morning — every  morning  if  you  will." 

Thinking  he  had  discovered  the  origin  of  the  amazing  proposi 
tion  that  gave  him  food  and  lodging,  he  got  out  of  the  house  as 
quickly  us  possible. 

The  kind  Providence  that  yet  works  miracles  in  behalf  of  the 
innocent  and  oppressed  had  brought  our  hero  in  contact  with  the 
d  stressed  and  sor  owing  family  of  Arnold  Stevens.  The  agencies 
pre  ared  bv  unbelieving  men  had  failed,  but  Christ,  who  promised 
to  be  with  us  to  the  end  of  time,  is  still  here.  He  gazes  lovingly  at 
us  through  the  mother's  eye  ;  walks  unseen  under  the  humble 
garb  of  the  good  Sister  of  Charity  ;  devotes  a  life  to  service  and 
privation  ;  cries  out  for  mercy  to  the  poor  dumb  brutes  through 
the  heart  of  a  Bergh  ;  on  every  hand  testifies  to  the  truth  of  His 
promise  to  be  with  us  to  the  end. 

This  strange  disappearance  of  the  one  bre  .d-winner  had  brought 
not  only  the  shame  of  slanderous  tongues,  but  the  distress  of 
clamotous  creditors.  "There  is  but  one  thing  more  cruel  than  a 


THE  WHARF-RAT.  121 

million  of  dollars,*' said  Senator  Sprague,  "  and  that  is  a  million 
and  a  half." 

Rat  Ely  returned,  and  quite  alarmed  the  family  by  his  vora 
cious  appetite,  that  threatened  to  clear  the  poor  larder.  The 
good  hearted  mother  worked  diligently  all  day  in  making  him  a 
new  suiu  out  of  some  old  clothes  of  her  lost  husband,  and  a  cot 
was  given  the  lad  in  a  room  immediately  under  the  roof. 

AY  hen  Ely  came  to  don  his  new  suit  a  grave  trouble  oppressed 
him.  It  afforded  him  no  room  for  the  concealment  of  his  treas 
ures.  After  some  study  he  tore  a  hole  in  his  mattress  and  hid 
book  and  flask  therein.  He  was  so  unused  to  the  ways  of  civilized 
life,  that  he  did  not  know  that  a  bed  had  to  be  rearranged  every 
morning  and  the  first  bed  making  by  Bridget  brought  that  honest 
and  indignant  domestic  to  Mrs.  Stevens'  room.  Bridget  had  not 
approved  of  this  charity  on  the  part  of  a  woman  too  poor  to  pay 
her  wages,  and  she  cried,  with  a  red  face  : 

{ '  It's  a  dirty  little  sot  and  thafe  yer  harborin',  ma'am  !  Look 
what  I  found  hid  in  his  mattress. " 

Mrs  Stevens  did  look,  turning  pale  and  trembling  so  that  she 
could  scarcely  stand.  It  was  her  own  Christmas  gift  to  her  hus 
band,  and  through  the  stains  of  us.'  and  abuse  could  yet  be  traced 
the  monogram  painted  upon  the  side.  With  trembling  hands  she 
seized  the  precious  relic  and  looked  at  it  through  tears,  until,  to 
Bridget's  astonishment  and  alarm,  she  fell  fainting  to  the  floor. 
All  day  1-ng  she  sat  with  the  flask  in  her  hand.  How  slowly  the 
hours  wore  away  until  evening  brought  Ely  back  to  his  supper 
and  bed;  Then  she  told  him  of  her  sad  affliction,  and  begged  to 
know  how  he  got  possession  of  the  flask.  The  boy,  in  return, 
related  his  adventures  ;  more  briefly  and  graphically  told  than  I 
have  been  able  to  give  them.  When  he  ended  she  said  : 

"  The  book,  Ely,  the  book/' 

"  Got  it  ! ''  he  said,  and  hurrying  to  the  dorm'tory,  returned 
with  what  Bridget  had  failed  to  discover.  Mrs.  Stevens  opened  it 
and  found  the  fortune  for  which  her  husband  had  probably  lost 
his  life. 

Possessed  of  means,  not  only  sufficient  to  relieve  the  irate  cred 
itors,  but  to  employ  men  to  trace  her  lost  husband,  she  again  con- 


122  THE  WHARF-RAT. 

suited  the  detectives.  These  able  men,  who  figure  so  prominently 
in  fiction,  listened  incredulously  to  the  story.  However,  as  money 
was  to  be  had  to  pay  expenses,  and  a  reward  of  15000  was  offered 
for  success  in  working  out  the  mystery,  the  miraculously  endowed 
detectives — endowed,  I  mean,  in  novels  and  plays — went  to  work. 
The  detective  of  literature  is  a  wonderful  man.  He  is  a  Fouche 
and  a  Bucket  rolled  in  one  ;  who,  to  great  honesty,  adds  a  wisdom 
thtt  makes  the  reader  hold  his  breath.  In  real  life,  he  is  a  fellow 
who  fails  as  a  thief,  and  turns  detective  that  he  may  share  the 
plunder  without  fear  of  punishment. 

Mrs.  Stevens  soon  learned  that,  to  accomplish  her  purpose,  she 
would  have  to  take  control.  The  head  detective  proved  ineffably 
stupid,  and  made  his  stupidity  offensive  by  his  conceit.  Little  Ely 
volunteered  to  show  the  police  from  the  river  the  place  where  Mr. 
Stevens  left  him  and  Wjas  landed.  The  wise  detectives  treated  the 
proposition  with  contempt.  But  the  wife  accepted,  and  a  party 
was  made  up  to  row  in  ;<n  open  boat  down  the  river.  Ely  sat  in 
the  bow  of  the  boat,  looking  out  eagerly,  w  thout  any  misgivings 
as  to  the  accuracy  of  his  lead.  It  was  no  light  task.  The  river, 
familiar  enough  to  the  lad  at  the  city,  was  an  unknown  region  be 
low,  and  the  change,  from  a  terrible  flood  to  an  ordinal y  stage, 
Wi.s  so  great  that  he  might  well  be  puzzled.  The  brain,  however, 
that  has  not  been  obscured  by  book  learning,  and  the  eyes  not 
dulled  by  reading,  take,  up  and  retain  all  of  this  material  world 
they  encounter,  and,  at  a  point  in  their  progress,  the  little  fellow 
threw  up  his  h  nd  and  cried,  "  Here'-  the  place  !  " 

The  boat  was  he  ^ded  to  the  bank,  and  the  search  began.  Every 
body  living  along  the  shore,  and  all  within  a  mile  in  the  country 
back,  were  questioned.  It  was  slow  and  tedious  work,  and  without 
eliciting  a  particle  of  information.  All  seemed  dead,  blank  igno 
rance.  The  se  irch  was  render  d  irritating  by  the  conduct  of  the 
detective.  He  was  sullen  and  inattentive. 

"  You  seem  to  be  without  hope,''  said  Mrs.  Stevens.  The  man 
shook  his  head  in  assent.  "  Well/'  continued  the  wife,  "  what  do 
you  think  ?  " 

"  I  don't  want  to  discourage  you,  mum,"  replied  the  creature  ; 
"but  it's  wild-goose,  all  uv  it," 


THE  WHARF-RAT.  123 

" What  is  wild-goose?" 

"A  follerin'  this  little  thievin'  cove.  Now,  "biz  is  biz,  an"  it's 
my  biz  to  speak  out.  It's  all  plain  to  me,  for  I  ain't  a  woman, 
an's  my  heart  don't  blind  my  sense,  I  see  it." 

"What  do  you  >ee?" 

"  The  gent  is  tumbled  senseless  off  uv  the  Helen  Marr.  He  is 
caught  in  a  tree.  This  little  cove  is  a-sailin'  down  on  a  raft — all 
likely.  Well,  he  just  helps  himself  to  the  valuables,  and  lets  the 
body  go  ;  an7  now  he  'eads  ye  a  wild-goose  chase,  on  a  shore  where 
ye  see  nobody  knows  nothin'.  Oh,  I'm  up  to  these  wharf -rats. 
They  are  as  cunniu'  as  Satan,  an'  can  lie  like  sin." 

The  poor  woman  at  this  brutal  speech,  made  in  the  presence 
of  the  lad,  felt  at  first  dismayed,  and  then,  glancing  at  his  indig 
nant  face,  had  her  confidence  restored.  Crowding  down  the  pain 
and  disgust,  she  said  quietly  : 

* '  That  is  harder  to  believe  than  his  story.  This  river  gives  up 
its  dead,  and  had  the  body  of  my  poor  husband  been  carried  off  on 
this  great  highway,  it  would  have  been  discovered  sooner  or  later, 
and  the  newspapers  filled  with  the  fact.  No,  the  boy  tells  the 
truth.  We  wiil  search  from  here  to  the  city,  and  from  here  south, 
until  he  is  found.  You  take  whichever  direction  you  please.  This 
lad  and  I  will  take  the  other.  I  pay  you  for  your  time.  Which 
way  will  you  go  ?  " 

"  Weli,  mum,  if  you  will,  you  will.  If  the  gent  did  get  to  shore 
alive,  he  uv  course  made  for  home." 

'•  No,  he  didn't  !  "  cried  Ely. 

' *'  Why  not  ?  "  asked  the  detective,  contemptuously. 

"Coz  he'd  a-got  there  'fore  this." 

T  e  detective  grunted.  It  was  arranged  that  he  should  con 
tinue  the  search  in  the  direction  of  the  city,  while  the  wife  and  Ely 
went  south.  The  detective  obeyed  by  walking  to  the  nearest  rail 
way  station,  scorning  to  ask  another  question,  and  so  returned  to 
the  city  and  his  associate  thieves  and  beer. 

The  unhappy  wife  procured  a  conveyance  and  slowly  and  weari 
ly  continued  her  sad  quest.  She  not  only  questioned  at  every 
house,  but  sought  the  country  doctors  and  undertakers  on  the  way 
— this  for  days,  but  all  without  avail.  Had  the  earth  opened  and 


124  THE  WHARF-RAT. 

shallowed  her  husband  on  his  reaching  shore,  he  could  not  have 
more  entirely  and  suddenly  disappeared. 

All  this  time  the  words  of  the  detective  were  working  at  her 
heart.  She  gazed  earnestly  at  the  boy,  and  again  and  again  made 
him  tell  over  his  story,  hoping  yet  fearing  to  find  some  contradic 
tion  upon  which  to  base  a  doubt.  But  the  little  fellow  never 
varied.  Her  husband  could  not  be  dead  ;  death  makes  an  event 
in  a  quiet  community.  It  is  known  of  all  men,  and  goes  to  the 
record  of  memory,  if  not  to  print.  Yet  where  could  he  be  ? 

At  last  she  caught  a  clue.  A  woman,  bending  over  awashtub 
in  a  farm-house  near  the  river,  being  interrogated,  said: 

"  Ain't  hearn  tell  of  any  sick  man.  Cut  there  is  a  sick  feller 
as  was  took  off  the  river  in  the  big  flood,  lynY  very  poorly  at  the 
Widder  Tuckerman's." 

"  Whi  re,  where  is  that?"  asked  the  wife,  eagerly. 

"  Well,  nigh  on  to  a  mile  from  here.  The  man  what  had  the 
poor  cretur  in  a  wagin  couldn't  get  anybody  to  take  him  till  Doc 
tor  Olds  hit  the  pcrcession,  and  he  pursuaded  the  widder  to  take 
him.  She  is  grevin'  for  her  man,  that  was  drowned  in  that  same 
flood,  and  felt  more  like  doin'  somethin7  for  the  poor  cretur." 

"  He  is  sick  ! "  exclaimed  the  wife,  motioning  the  driver  to 
move  on,  and  then,  catching  her  breath  and  his  hand,  stopped  him 
to  get  the  reply. 

"  Well,  yes,  mity  poorly  and  flighty — keeps  up  a  great  talk 
about  nothin' and  sumthin' along  at  the  same  time—  tho'  I  did 
see  the  doctor  goin'  by  yesterday,  and  he  allowed  there  was  a 
turn." 

Along  the  rough  road  the  carriage  was  hurried,  until  the  hum 
ble  home  of  the  widow  was  reached.  It  was  well  for  the  patient 
that  Mrs.  Stevens  met  the  old  doctor  at  the  door.  To  him  she 
hurriedly  told  her  story.  The  physician  listened  patiently  to  the 
end,  and  then  said: 

"  Your  husband  has  been  very  ill  of  brain  fever.  He  is  yet 
hanging  doubtfully  to  life,  but  is  better.  Glad  you  have  come, 
for  he  nee  Is  nursing."  Without  another  word,  he  led  the  way  to 
the  sick-room. 

The  appearance  of  the  sick  man  shocked  the  wife,  ai.u  made 


THE  WHARF-RAT.  125 

her  for  a  moment  doubt  the  identity.  Stretched  upon  a  rude  bed, 
under  the  glare  o.  curtainless  windows,  lay  an  emaciated  form 
with  such  a  ghastly  paleface,  pinched  features,  and  cavernous  eyes, 
that  her  heart  stilled  its  beating,  and  she  nearly  fainted.  Love, 
through  tears,  found  recognition,  and,  woman-Hke,  the  wife  turned 
instantly  to  nurse.  The  go  'd  old  doctor,  in  a  whisper,  called  her 
attention  to  the  fact  that  he  was  sleeping  quietly,  and  said  that  in 
this,  his  first  natural  sleep,  was  promise  of  health.  He  hoped  that 
with  waking  would  come  reason. 

So  it  proved.  After  a  long,  long  sleep  the  patient  opened  his 
eyes,  and,  recognizing  his  wife,  whispered,  "  Darling."  With 
tears  falling  on  his  wasted  face,  she  kissed  him,  and  then  remem 
bering  the  warning  of  the  doctor,  put  her  finger  to  her  lips  with  a 
reproving  nod,  and  went  about  her  silent  work  of  restoration. 

Arnold  Stevens'  fine  constitution,  aided  by  skimmed  milk  and 
tender  nursing,  grew  strong  apace.  Some  days  after,  with  his 
poor  head  resting  on  his  wife's  bosom,  he  told,  in  broken  frag 
ments,  of  his  misfortunes.  He  had  evidently  been  followed  from 
Pennsylvania  by  men  bent  on  robbing  him.  When  he  left  the 
card-table  to  get  his  overcoat,  he  went  from  the  stateroom  through 
the  door  upon  the  guard,  which,  as  the  boat  rounded  to,  would 
fetch  him  nearest  the  landing.  Hearing  the  door  close,  the  rob 
bers  ran  round,  and  while  one,  as  he  thought,  seized  his  valise, 
supposing  it  had  his  valuables,  the  other  struck  him  on  the  head, 
and  the  three  threw  him  into  the  river. 

"  A  ragged  little  fellow/'  he  continued,  '•'  pulled  me  out  of  the 
water." 

"Yes,  yes,"  said  h's  wife,  "I  know  that  ;  but  afterward,  when 
those  bad  men  took  you  from  the  raft,  what  happened  ? '' 

The  husband  looked  surprised  at  this  interruption,  and  then 
continued  :  '•'  I  quarrelled  with  them  for  leaving  the  poor  lad.  I 
called  them  miserable  brutes,  and  when  we  reached  the  shore  I 
was  knocked  senseless  for  my  epithets.  I  don't  know  how  long  I 
lay  there,  but  when  T  recovered  my  senses,  I  had  been  robbed  of 
my  watch,  pocketbook,  overcoat  and  all  my  papers.  Some  hours 
after  a  stout  fellow  rowed  by,  and.  hailing  him,  I  offered  him  fifty 
dollars  to  row  me  after  the  raft  and  rescue  the  lad.  I  was  half 


126  THE  WHARF-RAT. 

crazy,  for  the  poor  boy  had  my  bonds.  I  suppose  I  became  un 
conscious,  for  I  knew  no  more  until  I  opened  my  eyes  here  on  you, 
dear  wife."  After  a  pause,  he  asked,  anxiously  :  "  Did  that  man 
find  the  lad  ?  "  She  shook  her  head,  and,  with  a  deep  sigh,  be  went 
on  :  "Poor  little  fellow  and  poor  me  !  You  get  your  miserable 
husband  again,  Pet,*  but  you  get  a  ruined  man." 

"Oh  no,  not  quite  that,"  she  laughed;  "the  little  fellow 
found  himself,  and,  what  is  more  to  the  purpose,  he  found  me, 
with  all  your  wealth.  Ely  !  Ely  !  come  here." 

The  husband  started  up  in  amazement  as  the  little  fellow 
ran  in. 

"God  bless  you  !"  cried  Mr.  Stevens,  putting  his  emaciated 
hand  on  the  round  head.  "  You  shall  be  my  boy  after  this." 

It  is  a  melancholy  fact  that  the  Rat  received  this  benediction 
and  promise  with  solemn  indifference.  The  emotions  of  sensibil 
ity  are  the  result  of  culture,  and  the  Rat  had  not  yet  been  taught 
and  trained  to  that  luxury. 


THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT  WASHINGTON. 

NOVEL   XII. 

THE  "Department''  at  Washington  is  a  cross  between  West 
Point  and  the  penitentiary.  It  has  all  the  discipline  and  degrada 
tion  of  the  one,  and  the  despotism  of  the  other.  Filled  with 
workers  from  the  political  fields,  who  have  gotten  places  for  ser 
vices  at  the  polls  through  the  influt-nce  of  politicians,  and  as  their 
offices  are  held  subject  to  the  selfish  wants  of  the  patrons,  the 
laborers  live  in  constant  horror  of  dismissal.  The  rod  held  over 
them  is  more  potent  and  cruel  than  was  the  whip  of  the  overseer 
on  the  Southern  plantations. 

To  make  more  clear  the  despotism,  there  is  no  part  of  the 
civilized  world  in  which  the  iron  law  of  caste  has  such  firm  foun 
dation  and  such  immovable  power.  The  President  of  the  United 
States  to  a  "  Department  "  is  a  god  in  whose  presence  clerks  must 
stand  with  heads  bared,  and  speak  when  spoken  to  with  bated 
breath.  After  him  comes  the  Cabinet  officer,  and  as  he  stalks 
along  the  corridors,  head  up  and  form  composed,  with  a  look  that 
glares  from  his  face,  flashes  from  his  step,  and  waves  majestically 
from  his  very  coat-tails,  a  silence  precedes  and  follows  him,  like 
that  which  pervades  a  grove  when  an  old  hen-hawk  goes  swooping 
through.  All  the  little  birds  suspend  their  singing  until  the 
feathered  pirate  is  gone.  How  the  messengers  bow  down  in  the 
humility  of  mannered  prayer  as  they  swing  open  the  heavy  doors 
to  this  incarnation  of  official  flummery  ! 

After  the  Secretary  appears  the  Senator.  The  Senator  carries 
a  heavier  pressure  of  official  dignity  to  the  square  inch  than  even 
the  Cabinet  officer.  But  he  does  not  get  such  an  awful  and  im 
posing  recognition  as  that  "  tin-god-on-wheels  "  known  as  the 
head  of  the  Department. 

The  Member  of  the  House  comes  next.     He  mars  his  dignity 


128  THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT   WASHINGTON. 

through  his  hurry  ;  a  steam-tug  cannot  pose  as  a  seventy-four. 
Then  the  average  member  chews  tobacco,  and  this  use  of  the  weed 
indicates  human  weakness.  True  official  dignity  calls  for  a  sub 
limated,  godlike  condition  of  fog  that  lifts  one  above  common 
human  wants  and  weaknesses.  The  late  George  Washington,  as 
seen  by  the  multitude,  emblems  a  Department  notion  of  true 
greatness. 

After  the  Member  of  the  House  appears  the  Head  of  a  Bureau. 
Great  Scott !  what  an  immense  creature  he  is  in  his  own  estima 
tion.  Now,  next  to  being  immense  in  the  mind  of  others,  the  best 
thing  is  to  be  gigantic  in  your  own. 

And  so  file  in  the  captains  of  thousands,  and  captains  of  hun 
dreds,  until  the  poor,  wretched  clerks  appear,  living  on  a  bare  sub 
sistence,  and  not  able  to  sleep  of  nights  lest  this  be  taken  from 
them.  The  misery  of  the.  place  comes  from  the  uncertain  tenure 
of  office.  The  male  clerks  are  mostly  men  unfitted  by  nature  for 
the  fierce  competition  of  human  life.  This  drove  them  in  the 
first  instance  into  politics,  and  from  thence  they  drift  into  the  De 
partments.  Originally  helpless,  they  mould  into  deformities,  and 
expulsion  from  office  means  starvation. 

The  tenure  is  uncertain  because  every  new  member  fetches 
to  Washington  a  fresh  following  to  be  provided  for,  and  he  is  fierce 
in  his  demands.  The  new  civil  service  rules  are  meant  to  mitigate 
this  evil.  The  trouble  with  them  is  that  they  are  based  on  false 
premises.  The  Hon.  Eaton,  of  Connecticut,  and  the  lion.  Pen- 
dleton,  of  Ohio,  a  politician  I  christened  some  years  since  by  the 
name  he  is  now  known  by,  "Gentleman  Gqorge,"  copied  this 
competitive  system  from  the  English  Government,  where  the 
service  suffered  from  being  monopolized  by  the  aristocracy,  and  all 
the  places  were  filled  with  incompetent  younger  sons  and  depend 
ents.  To  rid  the  Government  of  this,  and  throw  the  positions  open, 
the  competitive  examination  was  instituted. 

Now  the  trouble  with  us  is,  not  in  the  lack  of  aHlity,  but  in 
the  absence  of  honesty,  the  poor  pay,  and  the  uncertain  tenure  of 
office.  An  official  with  us  has  to  steal  to  live  and  that  rapidly,  in 
view  of  the  uncertainty  of  official  life. 

The  English  competitive  nonsense  is,  with  us,  the  mere  shift- 


THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT  WASHINGTON  120 

ing  of  responsibility,  or  rather  the  appearance  of  it,  from  the 
appointing  power  to  the  board,  and  the  board  is  accommodating. 
It  comprehends  the  force  of  a  wink. 

However,  I  am  not  engaged  in  treating  on  civil  service,but  to 
illustrate  it  in  the  story  of  Miss  Alice  Doehead  a  would-be  female 
clerk  at  Washington. 

Hon.  Daniel  Doehead  was  a  wealthy  man,  who  bought  a  seat 
in  the  Senate,  very  much  as  his  wife  bought  her  carriage,  to  en 
hance  his  social  position.  A  quiet,  inoffensive,  solid  man,  he  filled 
his  place  as  a-  butter-firkin  would  have  done — no  more,  no  less. 
He  looked  to  the  committee  for  instructions,  and  followed  his 
leader  in  his  votes,  and  so  glided  quietly  along  the  well-oiled  tracks 
of  legislation. 

In  the  same  way  the  family,  consisting  of  wife  and  daughter, 
assumed  its  place  in  society.  Renting  the  gorgeously  furnished 
house  of  a  retired  Cabinet  official,  the  Hon.  Doehead  gave  dinners, 
and  Mrs.  D.  receptions.  The  roll  of  carriages  and  the  crowd  of 
visitors  told  in  the  usual  way  of  their  social  success.  Alice,  the 
lovely  little  daughter,  shy  as  a  fawn,  shone  as  a  belle,  and,  for  the 
two  seasons  given  the  family,  had  in  train  suitors,  running  from 
the  bald  headed  widowed  Senators  down  to  Dick  Wingate,  her 
father's  private  sec  etary,  a  handsome  young  fellow,  who  had  lifted 
himself  from  a  thousand-dollar  clerk  to  a  twenty-five  hundred 
dollar  secretary,  through,  first,  his  knowledge  of  short-hand,  and, 
secondly,,  his  power  to  supply  the  brain  necessary  to  make  the 
phonographic  skill  available.  He  loved  the  little  Alice,  but 
dared  not  say  so  ;  and  she,  regarding  the  secretary  as  the  hand 
somest  and  most  fascinating  of  men,  treated  him,  on  that  account, 
with  ex  reme  reserve. 

The  political  world  has  forgotten — for  the  political  world  is  as 
short  of  memory  as  it  is  short  of  principle— how  a  vacancy  once 
occurred  in  the  Senate  by  the  sudden  death  of  ilie  Hon.  Doehead. 
The  remote  cause  of  his  demise  was  attributed  to  the  Washington 
malaria  that,  born  of  the  Kid  well  bottoms,  is  said  lu  iioat  over  the 
national  Capitol  and  kill  the  solons.  The  fact  is  that  the  fatal 
malaria  did  not  float  at  all.  It  is  in  perpetual  solution  and  well 
bottled.  It  is  composed  of  cheap  champa.ne  and  doctored  whiskey, 


130  THE  FEMALE  CLERK  AT  WASHINGTON. 

and  kills  on  sight.  The  Hon.  Doehead  not  only  disappeared 
from  earth,  but  his  riches  went  with  him.  The  poor  wife,  who 
had  been  kept  in  ignorance  all  her  married  life  of  her  husband's 
affairs,  awakened  to  the  dismal  fact  that  she  and  her  daughter 
were  without  a  cent  on  which  to  live. 

While  casting  about  for  a  refuge  from  their  poverty,  the  daugh 
ter  thought  of  and  suggested  a  clerkship  at  Washington.  The 
suggest'on  was  acted  on,  and  so  wretchedly  poor  were  they  that  a 
sale  of  their  personal  effects  only  gave  them  mom  y  en  ugh  to  reach 
the  national  capital. 

They  arrived  in  a  vacation  of  Congress,  when  the  wide,  hot  city 
seemed  to  be  sleeping  without  even  the  disturbing  noise  of  a  snore. 
The  street  cars,  running  empty,  alone  awakened,  with  their  rattle, 
the  echoes  of  the  deserted  streets.  At  the  hotels,  that  superior  be 
ing,  the  head  clerk,  rested  like  a  volcano  in  repose  ;  nothing  but 
the  dazzling  gleam  of  his  diamond  bosom  indicating  the  fearful 
power  that  lies  hid  in  the  awful  explosion  of  the  word  "  Front," 
when  he  consigns  the  wretch  of  a  guest  to  the  hands  of  a  call-boy. 

Mother  and  daughter  did  not  disturb  the  repose  of  this  su 
perior  person,  but  found  refuge  in  a  humble  room  located  on 
Boundary  Street,  and  immediately  went  forth  to  seek  the  means  of 
livelihood.  The  Administration  was  absent.  At  the  Executive 
mansion  the  servants  alone  lounged  about  its  lofty  room",  arid 
through  its  lofty  windows  the  pungent  odors  of  the  Kidwell  bot 
toms  wafted  to  and  fro.  At  the  Departments,  in  the  cool  corri 
dors,  the  messengers,  tilted  back  in  easy  chairs,  dozed  undisturbed. 
Two  of  the  Cabinet  alone  remained  at  their  posts.  These  were 
patriotic,  conscientious  officials,  who  could  not  consent  to  vacate 
their  positions  while  certain  heavy  contracts  were  being  executed. 
Some  vile  calumniators  insinuated  that  these  officials  were  person 
ally  concerned  in  the  millions  involved,  by  asserting  as  much  in 
the  columns  of  journals,  under  huge  head-lines.  But  no  one 
heeded  t!ieir  libels  ;  and,  although  these  high  officials  were  subse 
quently  dismissed  from  place,  and  one  of  them  indicted,  they  yet 
bid  fair  to  die  lamented,  and  leave  memories  sweet  to  the  mind 
of  the  American  multitude  that  piously  refrains  from  speak- 


THE  FEMALE  CLERK  AT   WASHINGTON.  131 

ing  ill  of  the  dead  while  heaping  vast  oceans  of  abuse  on  the 
living. 

The  poor  women,  walking  in  from  their  distant  home,  trailed 
wearily  from  Department  to  Department  in  vain.  The  two  Cabi 
net  officials,  who  had  partaken  of  their  hospitality  in  their  pros 
perous  hours,  received  them  politely,  one  each,  and  after  that  it 
was  found  impossible  to  gain  the  presence  of  either.  Hour  after 
hour  they  sat  in  the  ante- chamber  of  the  one  or  the  other,  and 
saw  hard-looking  men  and  bold  women  admitted  and  dismissed, 
but  their  turn  never  came.  They  had  no  political  influence,  that 
open  sesame  to  the  cave  of  the  forty  thieves,  and  our  Saviour  him 
self  without  this  might  have  starved  in  the  ante- chamber  of  a 
Government  official. 

As  time  wore  on  their  few  clothes  wore  out,  especially  the 
shoes,  and  their  little  store  of  money  got  less  and  less.  At  last, 
reduced  to  one  pair  of  shoes,  and  a  few  crackers  each  day,  that 
they  moistened  with  tears,  the  shy  little  girl  was  forced  to  go 
alone,  the  mother  remaining  at  home,  having  nothing  to  put  on 
her  feet.  The  poor  girl  lengthened  her  walk  by  a  square  to  avoid 
a  certain  bake- shop,  not  that,  like  Dick  Swiveller,  she  had  a  debt 
there,  but  to  avoid  the  odor  of  the  place  that  fairly  maddened  her. 
She  thought  of  her  old  friend  and  father's  secretary,  Dick  AVin- 
gate,  but  found  that  he  was  off  with  a  Senatorial  committee 
appointed  to  put  in  the  summer  junketing  in  the  North. 

There  was  one  hope  alone  left  mother  and  daughter.  The 
Secretary  of  the  Department  devoted  to  Jobs  and  Expenditures 
had  been  not  only  the  warm  personal  friend  of  the  late  Senator, 
but  the  Senator  had  been  actively  instrumental  in  elevating  the 
Secretary  to  his  high  and  responsible  position.  He  was  away  from 
the  capital,  but  expected  back  every  day. 

At  last  the  great  man  arrived,  and  Alice  was  ushered  into  his 
presence.  It  was  an  imposing  presence  in  every  sense  of  the  word. 
He  was  tall,  broad-shouldered,  full-stomached,  and  needed  only 
two  ram's  horns  to  make  him  a  living  representative  of  the  dead 
satyr  sung  of  in  Greek  mythology.  His  coarse  face,  full  of  animal 
feeling,  was  so  without  intellect  that  a  wicked  Sunday  journal  let 
fly  at  him  an  epigram  that  read  : 


132  THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT   WASHINGTON. 

"  In  Goldsmith's  day  there  once  a  wonder  grew, 
How  one  small  head  could  carry  all  it  knew  ; 
But  now  'tis  changed,  we  here  a  wonder  find, 
To  see  so  large  a  carcass,  with  so  little  mind." 

Nature  is  considerate,  and  gave  to  the  huge  Secretary  a  cun 
ning  that  more  than  compensated  for  an  absence  of  intellect. 

The  huge  animal  received  Alice  with  gushing  cordiality.  In 
deed  he  held  her  little  hand  in  his  much  longer  than  the  occasion 
called  for,  and  gazed  into  her  delicate,  lovely  face  with  an  inten 
sity  of  expression  that  made  the  poor  maiden  drop  her  eyes  and 
blush,  she  scarcely  knew  why.  He  promised  her  an  immediate 
place,  took  her  address,  and,  to  the  confusion  of  the  two  women, 
dashed  up  to  the  door  of  their  humble  abode,  and  insisted  on 
their  ridi1  g  with  him  to  the  Soldiers'  Home.  Both  could  not  go, 
for  one  would  le  in  her  stockings,  and  Alice  was  consigned  to  his 
fatherly  care. 

The  ride  was  not  pleasant  to  Alice,  for,  in  the  first  place,  she 
was  famishing,  actually  sick  and  dizzy  from  lack  of  food  ;  in  the 
second  place,  the  great  man's  conversation  and  manner  were  un 
pleasant.  He  dwelt  upon  her  beauty,  her  old  lovers,  and  insisted 
upon  holding  her  hand.  Alice  was  young  and  confiding,  but  not 
altogether  inexperienced,  for  two  seasons  in  Washington  had  forced 
much  on  her  mind  that  had  given  her  knowledge  without  affecting 
her  purity.  The  ride,  at  last,  came  to  an  end  and  was  followed 
by  a  stipper  at  Welcher's.  The  poor  girl  tried  hard  to  restrain 
herself,  but  hunger  was  too  much  for  her,  and  she  was  ashamed  of 
the  fierce  appetite  she  exhibited.  The  Secretary  did  not  eat,  but 
did  drink  enormously,  and  was  immensely  amused  at  his  little 
friend's  enjoyment.  She  ate  all  offered  her,  but  refused  the  prof 
fered  wine. 

"Your  mother  looks  delicate,  Alice."  He  was  very  familiar, 
this  great  man.  "  The  grief  at  the  loss  of  your  dear  father  and 
my  dear  friend  is  telling  on  her  ;  she  needs  delicacies  and  some  of 
this  old  wine.  I  must  see  that  she  has  quails  and  some  old  sherry. 
We  will  start  now."  He  gave  an  order  that  Alice  feebly  resisted, 
and  a  basket,  well  laden,  was  placed  in  the  carriage  and  left  with 
Alice  at  her  home. 


THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT   WASHINGTON.  J33 

Poor  Mrs.  Doehead  thanked  God  upon  her  knees  that  night 
long  and  earnestly  for  thus  sending  this  great  and  good  man  to 
their  relief.  It  may  have  been  our  heavenly  Father  who  sent 
him,  but  Alice  was  distressed.  There  was  something  in  it  that 
made  her  pure  white  soul  feel,  to  say  the  least,  uneasy,  and  when 
she  prayed  it  was  to  the  holy  Mary,  Mother  of  God,  to  protect  the 
orphan  and  the  widow. 

I  have  not  the  space  nor  the  inclination  to  dwell  upon  what 
followed  in  the  continued  and  unremitting  favor  of  this  good  man. 
It  is  true  he  gave  Alice  no  clerkship,  but  the  rides  continued. 
The  supply  of  delicacies  and  wines  went  on  ;  and  one  day  the 
great  Secretary,  while  excusing  himself  for  not  finding  the  place 
he  desired,  insisted  on  loaning  the  widow  some  money,  to  be 
repaid  from  the  girl's  salary  when  she  secured  the  position  he  had 
in  view. 

The  summer  wore  on,  and  as  autumn  came  in  with  its  cool 
sea  breezes  from  the  Potomac,  Washington  seemed  to  wake  up 
from  its  sleepy  recess.  Alice  noticed,  in  her  rides,  the  increased 
number  of  gay  equipages  they  met,  and  she  was  also  forced  to  note 
the  strange  stare  the  occupants  gave  her  as.  nodding  to  the  Sec 
retary,  they  swept  by.  Once  or  twice  she  caught  the  gleam  of 
a  smile  that  flashed  like  sheet-lightning  over  faces  that  had 
greeted  the  Secretary,  after  the  carriages  had  passed. 

There  is  no  city  on  earth  where  the  tide  of  human  life 
changes  so  rapidly  and  completely  as  at  Washington.  It  is  true 
there  is  a  population  of  old  families,  and  it  marries,  has  children, 
and  lives  and  dies  as  elsewhere  ;  but  it  is  not  upon  the  surface. 
It  lives  unseen,  and  deep  sea-soundings  are  necessary  to  bring 
specimens  to  the  surface.  Xow  a  new  world  of  faces  came 
sweeping  into  Washington,  as  Alice  saw  it ;  but  there  was  enough 
of  a  remnant  left  to  teach  the  child  a  lesson.  There  were  peo 
ple  who  had  partaken  of  her  father's  generous  hospitality  in  their 
more  prosperous  hour,  and  had.  many  of  them,  followed,  flattered, 
sought,  and  sued  the  little  heiress.  Now  they  gazed  at  her  with 
cold,  averted  faces  and  so  all  the  world  was  strange. 

The  cruelest  blow  came  when  the  long-looked-for  Dick  Win- 
gate,  the  handsome,  genial,  clever  young  man,  whose  manner  had 


131:  THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT  WASHINGTON. 

told  her  instinctively  that  he  loved,  although  no  vow  of  love  had 
ever  passed  his  lips.  I  say  the  blow  came  when  he  returned.  Alice 
met  him  upon  the  street,  and  she  could  not  refrain  from  hurrying 
her  steps  and  holding  out  her  hands  with  a  sunny  smile.  What 
was  her  amazement,  her  distress,  at  receiving  from  him  only  a  cold 
bow,  and  no  notice  of  her  outstretched  hands  as  he  passed.  Her 
heart  and  breath  seemed  to  forsake  her,  and  as  the  one  came  back 
through  a  sob,  the  other  seemed  to  bound  back  as  if  struck  with 
a  blow.  What  could  it  mean  ?  Why  should  he,  too,  turn  on 
her? 

She  did  not  know  that,  hearing  of  the  family  misfortunes,  and 
her  return  to  Washington,  the  young  man  had  hurried,  with  his 
heart  in  his  mouth,  to  the  Capitol  as  soon  as  his  official  duties 
would  permit ;  and  that  on  his  arrival  all  his  lov  ng  hopes  were 
blighted  by  the  cruel  scandal  that  met  him  at  every  turn.  Scan 
dal  is  the  moral  miasma  of  Washington  that  touches  all,  and 
taints  all  it  touches.  Common  report  made  his  little  love  the  mis 
tress  of  a  man  (his  own  chief,  for  Dick  was  his  private  secretary), 
whose  very  presence  was  pollution  to  womanhood. 

She  did  not  know  this,  of  course  ;  she  would  have  died  of 
shame  and  mortification  had  the  slightest  whisper  reached  her  ear. 
Nor  did  he  know  that  his  cruel  blow  had  dr  ven  her  to  the 
edge  of  the  precipice  over  which  he  believed  she  had  already 
fallen.  The  Hon.  Secretary,  madly  infatuated,  had  been  cun 
ningly  careful  not  to  frighten  the  timid  fawn  he  meant  to  sacri 
fice.  He  had,  it  is  true,  done  all  in  his  power  to  compromise  the 
girl,  well  knowing  that  when  reputation  is  lost  a  great  safeguard 
is  broken  down,  and  desperation  accomplishes  what  passionate  ap 
peals  fail  to  win.  To  this  end  he  had  sent  his  carriage  at  midnight 
to  the  corner  of  the  block  upon  which  t  e  helpless  women  lived — 
a  neighborhood  of  clerks,  where  rowdies  out  late  or  police  out 
early  could  see  it  drive  away. 

Let  no  one  believe  for  a  moment  that  I  am  romancing.  That 
fact  last  told  was  notorious  in  Washington  when  our  Government 
reached,  let  us  hope,  its  lowest  plane  of  pollution — a  level  that  made 
the  most  shameful  and  shameless  periods  of  European  court-life 
both  refined  and  respectable. 


THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT  WASHINGTON.  135 

"While  Alice  remained  innocent,  her  womanly  instincts  kept  her 
warned,  and  although  the  social  and  political  world  was  busy  with 
her  name,  she  had  kept  the  wrong-doer  at  arm's  distance.  He  had 
passed  from  rides  and  suppers  to  gifts  ai.d  notes,  all  the  while 
holding  out  the  promise  of  immediate  place  that  was  never  given. 
Returning  home  after  the  cruel  cut  from  her  old  associate  and 
lover,  crowding  down  as  best  she  might  the  grief  that  had  made 
her  wild  and  desperate,  she  found  a  note  from  her  patron,  asking 
her  to  come  to  his  house  at  five  that  afternoon.  At  any  other  time 
she  would  have  declined  this  meeting.  But  now  as  she  was,  she 
resolved  to  comply ;  the  consequences  of  such  a  step  dimly  shad 
owed  themselves  upon  her  maidenly  fears,  but  she  thrust  them 
aside.  There  was  the  one  man  of  all  the  world  who  had  taken 
pity  on  them,  saved  them  from  starvation,  and  stood  ready  to  give 
her  an  honest  and  honorable  calling  ;  so  she  complied. 

Ascending  the  broad  stone  steps  of  the  then  most  aristocratic 
mansion  of  Washington,  she  rang  the  bell,  and  the  huge  door 
swung  open  immediately,  the  Secretary  himself  ushered  the  little 
girl  into  his  library.  The  wide,  lofty  hall,  dimly  lit,  exhibited  a 
wealth  of  art  and  upholstery  such  as  Alice  had  nearly  forgotten 
in  her  banishment  from  luxury  to  privation.  In  the  superbly- 
adorned  library  she  was  somewhat  startled  to  find  the  daylight 
shut  out,  and  the  beautiful  room  lighted  by  a  lamp  on  the  library 
table  that  made  heavy  shadows  on  all  sides. 

The  presence  of  innocent  maidenhood  awed  the  selfish  brute. 
He  found  it  difficult,  although  fortified  with  wine,  to  advance  in 
his  purpose.  Seating  himself,  he  said  that  in  the  absence  of  his 
family  he  kept  but  one  servant,  and  the  fellow  had  taken  a  holiday 
to  himself.  He  went  on  to  say  that  he  could  not  consent  to  have 
the  lovely  daughter  of  his  dear  old  friend  placed  in  a  miserable  po 
sition,  and  had  made  up  his  mind  to  share  with  Alice  and  her 
mother  some  of  the  wealth  it  had  been  his  fortune  to  acquire.  He 
wanted  to  be  a  protector  to  her,  and  surround  her  with  all  the 
luxury  to  which  she  had  been  so  accustomed.  She  should  live  with 
her  mother  in  a  lovely  little  house,  servants  at  will,  and  the  love 
liest  little  coupe  to  be  had  for  money,  and  all  he  asked  in  return 
was  her  love. 


136  TUE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT   WASHINGTON. 

He  approached  as  lie  spoke,  and  she  rose  from  her  chair, 
shocked  and  frightened,  now  that  the  fact  of  degradation  was 
frankly  presented  to  her.  She  drew  back,  pale  and  trembling  ; 
but  the  creature  had  gone  too  far  to  retreat,  and  seizing  her  in 
his  arms  he  attempted  kisses  that  came  to  her  face  heavy  with 
whiskey  and  tobacco.  She  struggled  to  free  herself,  and  failing, 
screamed  out  a  piteous  appeal. 

"Oh,  let  me  go  !  "  she  screamed  ;  "oh,  for  God's  sake,  let  me 
go.  I  cannot,  I  cannot " 

Further  resistance  was  suppressed  in  his  embraces,  and  as  she 
freed  her  face  she  gave  utterance  to  a  wild  despairing  cry,  the  Hon. 
Secretary  felt  an  iron  grip  at  his  throat,  and  before  he  could 
realize  the  interruption,  he  was  hurled  over  a  sofa,  and,  striking 
his  head  upon  a  projection  of  the  library  shelves,  fell  stunned  to 
the  floor.  Alice  had  fainted,  and  Dick  Wingate  stood  for  a  second 
between  the  two.  Seizing  a  glass  of  water,  he  proceeded  to  revive 
the  little  girl,  and  having  succeeded,  looked  over  his  shoulder  to 
see  the  Hon.  Secretary  in  a  sitting  position  with  the  blood  stream 
ing  from  his  wounded  head.  Had  the  great  sovereign  State  of 

that  delighted  to  honor  her  favorite  son  seen  his  plight  and  posi 
tion,  doubt 'ess  great  sympathy  would  have  been  felt.  The  favor 
ite  son  of  a  sovereign  State,  continuing  in  his  recumbent  position 
upon  the  floor,  let  loose  his  opinion  of  his  private  secretary  in  lan 
guage  more  profane  than  polite. 

Dick  Wingate  would  have  responded,  and  continued  the  gen 
eral  engagement  then  and  there,  but  for  a  faint  appeal  from 
therescued  maiden  to  take  her  thence,  which  caused  him  to 
lift  her  from  her  chair  and  leave  the  house.  That  he  es 
corted  her  home,  that  he  soothed  her  troubled  soul  witli 
loving  words  that  were  received  and  in  a  manner  returned, 
followed  of  course. 

The  next  morning  Wingate,  private  secretary  to  this  lofty 
chief,  received  a  summons  from  his  master  and  responded  promptly. 
Wingate  thought  of  his  providential  interference  with  great  com 
fort  to  himself.  He  remembered  coming  unexpectedly  to  the 
Secretary,  into  the  city  ;  he  had  hurried  with  his  report  to  the 
house,  and,  finding  the  bell  unheeded,  had  let  himself  in  with  his 


THE  FEMALE   CLERK  AT   WASHINGTON.  13? 

latch-key,  and,  moving  along  the  noiseless  carpet  of  the  lofty  hall, 
had  been  a  witness  to  all  that  passed. 

Dick  found  his  chief  in  a  woful  plight,  with  his  head  bandaged 
and  his  eyes  indicating  a  s'eepless  night.  He  expected  from  the 
Secretary  a  torrent  of  abuse  and  instant  dismissal.  To  the  youth's 
surprise,  he  was  received  pleasantly  and  invited  to  seat  himself. 

"  Dick,"  said  the  Secretary,  after  a  pause,  "  you  did  me  a 
favor  yesterday.  You  saved  me  from  an  awful  scrape.  The  fact 
is,  my  boy,  I  had  been  drinking  Tom  Laphanrs  whiskey.  Tom's 
whiske}7  does  not  make  a  man  drunk,  it  makes  him  crazy.  You 
did  right  to  knock  me  down,  and  I  wish  you  had  gone  on  and 
given  me  a  damned  thrashing.  You  can  do  so  yet.  I  believe  it 
would  relieve  me  from  this  mean  feeling.  Kick  me  !  Dick  ;  kick 
me  ! " 

The  proposition  was  so  grotesque  that  the  lover,  greatly  re 
joiced  to  find  the  girl  of  his  heart  innocent,  could  not  help  laugh 
ing. 

"  You  have  the  laugh  Dick  ;  you  have  the  laugh,'7  continued 
the  high  official,  ''and  it  hurts  more  than  the  blow.  It  won't 
do,  my  boy.  for  yon  to  remain  here  You  will  be  a  continual  re 
proach  to  me.  There  is  a  place  vacant  in  Dakota,  good  for  $6000 
a  year,  with  the  perquisites,  Dick  ;  healthy  pc  quisites,  my  boy. 
Go,  and  God  bless  you  ! " 

Dick  AVingate  accepted  the  position,  and  soon  left  Washington 
for  his  distant  post.  Before  doing  so,  a  little  sacrament  at  St. 
Matthew's  Church  made  Alice  his  wife  ;  and,  kneeling  at  the  altar, 
the  beautiful  bride  returned  her  prayerful  thanks  from  her  heart 
to  the  Blessed  Virgin  for  protection  through  perilous  trials. 


THE  GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE. 

NOVEL   XIII. 

THERE  is  no  superstition  so  well  fixed  in  the  popular  mind 
that  is  so  uufounded  as  that  which  prevails  under  the  phrase  of 
'•national  traits."  Humanity  is  about  the  same  the  world  over, 
and  the  modification  which  comes  of  climate,  different  pursuits 
and  races,  is  so  slight  that  it  leaves  man  very  much  as  nature  made 
him.  The  dude  Absalom  of  Israel  is  the  dude  of  to-day,  and  the 
brutal  man-killer  worshipped  in  the  barbarous  ages  is  the  same 
man  killer  we  bury  in  glory  in  this  afternoon  of  the  nineteenth 
century. 

Nevertheless,  we  continue  to  ascribe  to  the  German,  as  a  na 
tional  characteristic,  honest  simplicity,  that  no  facts  to  the  contrary 
can  disturb 

Diedrich  Von  Cotf,  of  Von  Cott  &  Co.,  Soap  and  C  indies, 
came  in  this  way  to  be  regarded  as  an  amiable  and  guileless  old 
gentleman,  whose  word  was  better  than  an  average  man's  bond. 
This  came  of  the  fact  that  he  was  a  stout  man,  of  full,  round  stom 
ach,  and  a  genial,  round,  red  face,  reminding  one  of  the  Western 

song  which  said  : 

When  he  liveri,  he  lived  in  clover, 
And  when  he  died,  he  died  all  over. 

Only  the  line  should  read,  "  When  he  laughed  he  laughed  all  over." 
A  smile  would  spread  o'er  his  broad  face  as  a  batter  cake  spreads 
on  a  griddle,  and  then  a  subterranean  agitation  would  seem  to  dis 
turb  his  huge  paunch,  and  extend  to  all  pa  its  of  him — out  to  his 
chubby  fingers  and  down  to  his  fat  toes. 

The  curious  part  of  it  was  that  this  manifestation  of  humor 
seemed  to  be  of  a  physical  origin.  In  his  intellectual  processes, 
Diedrich  was  without  any  sense  of  humor.  The  fact  is,  that  part 
of  his  get-up  was  singularly  serious.  His  money  getting,  for  ex- 


THE  GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE.  139 

ample,  had  no  shade  of  fun  in  it.  He  gave  to  profit  and  loss  the 
keen- eyed  attention  of  serious  thought.  There  was  no  laughter 
over  business.  Had  it  been  otherwise,  he  would  not  have  built  up 
a  vast  trade  out  of  ;in  humble  beginning — from  a  shop  that  a  stout 
man  could  have  run  a  stick  through,  and,  shouldering  up,  march 
off  with.  From  this  small  beginning,  Diedrich  progressed  until  it 
represented  a  million  in  capital,  a  manufacturing  concern  that 
made  a  village  of  some  hundreds  of  workmen,  and  so  well  out  of  debt 
that  the  hard  times  seemed  to  leave  the  concern  undisturbed. 

Yet  Diedrich  laughed  through  life.  He  could  even  laugh  over 
a  joke  at  his  own  expense,  and  his  associates  had  one  that  they 
never  tired  putting  at  him,  and  he  never  failed  in  his  earthquake 
of  merriment  in  response.  The  joke  was  this  :  One  day  the  old 
gentleman  stumbled  over  a  box  of  candles,  and  went  down  a  flight 
of  steps  to  the  basement  of  his  storehouse  in  a  way  that  made  his 
clerks  and  workmen  believe  that  the  head  of  the  firm  had  split  all 
to  pieces.  He  was  picked  up.  if  I  may  use  such  an  expression  of  a 
man  weighing  two  hundred  and  twenty-six,  but  could  not  be  set  on 
end.  The  stout  workmen  deposited  their  damaged  boss  in  his 
carriage,  and  from  his  carriage  to  his  bed. 

"Ah  !  mine  frau,"  he  said,  with  some  profanity  I  do  not  record, 
"  I'm  kil'd  in  mine  pack."  The  German  physician  called  in  found 
no  bones  broken,  nor  co:ild  he  discover  any  internal  injury  ;  so  he 
bound  up  the  old  gentleman's 'head  and  put  him  on  active  treat 
ment  of  whiskey  and  water.  The  one  he  applied  externally,  the 
other  was  poured  down  his  throat. 

A  few  weeks  after,  the  great  manufacturer  of  Arnold's  "light 
and  grace  " — I  mean  grease — rose  from  his  bed  to  a  sofa,  and,  in 
course  of  time,  to  his  feet.  But  in  the  pedal  extremity  a  new 
trouble  manifested  itself.  Diedrich's  big  toe  of  his  right  foot  was 
so  swollen  and  sore  he  could  not  walk.  Again  the  German  doctor 
made  a  diagnosis,  and  pronounced  it  gout.  The  burly  patient 
was  treated  for  that  aristocratic  disorder.  He  was  put  on  low  diet, 
which  he  violated  whenever  his  w  ife's  back  was  turned  and  his 
daughter  Catrina  had  an  opportunity  to  obey  her  father's  wink  and 
surreptitiously  give  him  all  sorts  of  indigestible  food.  Of  course 
he  grew  no  better,  rather  worse,  and,  propped  up  in  one  arm  chair 


140  THE  GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE. 

he  had  his  leg,  fearfully  bandaged,  on  another,  while  his  temper 
got  to  be  something  awful.  Using  his  crutch  as  a  weapon,  offen 
sive  and  defensive,  he  had  the  servants  dodging  about  him  to  avoid 
the  pokes  and  blows,  or  off  in  their  rooms  bathing  each  other's 
bruises  with  arnica. 

The  German  physician  brought  in  other  German  doctors,  and 
the  solemn  conclave  smoked  and  sputtered  over  the  irritable  pa 
tient  until  he  drove  them  all  out. 

"Mine  frau  !  "  he  cried,  "  ve  mid  Catrina  to  Europe  goes,  py 
tarn,  und  consulds  mid  doctors  vot  knows  so  meting.  Dose  Tellers 
is  jakasses." 

To  Europe  they  sailed,  and  from  Europe  he  returned  with  his 
afflicted  wife  and  daughter,  the  ailing  toe  in  a  worse  condition 
than  when  they  left  our  shores.  Diedrich  was  not  only  losing  his 
genial  disposition,  but  he  was  losing  flesh.  His  cheeks  lost  color, 
and  his  skin  hung  loose  as  his  clothes.  One  day,  a  little  Hebrew 
horse-doctor,  a  great  friend  of  Diedrich' s,  while  talking  to  the  old 
gentleman,  asked  to  see  the  gouty  part.  The  bandages  were  un 
rolled,  very  much  with  the  pride  that  Dogberry  boasted  his  losses, 
or  a  boy  shows  another  boy  his  stone-bruise.  The  son  of  Moses 
looked  long  and  earnestly  at  the  swollen  and  inflamed  member. 
Suddenly,  without  a  word  of  warning,  he  seized  with  a  frightful 
grip  of  his  right  hand  the  swollen  toe,  and  threw  his  entire  weight 
and  strength  in  one  pull  at  the  member.  Old  Diedrich  uttered  a 
yell  to  which  that  of  the  wild  Indians  or  the  armed  Confederates 
was  a  mere  infant. 

"Oh,  mine  Cot!  mine  Cot!"  he  gasped,  "you  kil'd  me!" 
And  he  made  a  pass  at  the  little  Hebrew  with  his  crutch  that 
would  have  ended  then  and  there  the  valuable  life  of  a  veterinary 
surgeon  had  not  that  child  of  Israel  dodged  the  blow. 

"Mine  friend,"  said  the  Hebrew,  calmly,  from  the  further  side 
of  the  room,  "  your  dam't  old  toe  vas  oud  ov  joint." 

So  it  proved.  In  a  few  weeks  the  old  gentleman  was  on  his  stout 
legs,  as  well  as  ever.  From  that  out,  it  was  the  thing  for  all  of  Mr. 
Von  Cott's  friends  and  associates  to  ask  him  gravely  about  his  gout. 
He  would  respond :  "  It  is  petter  as  veil/'  and  then  the  laughter 
would  follow,  no  one  enjoying  it  more  than  Diedrich  himself. 


THE  GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE.  141 

The  great  bulk  of  Diedrich  &  Co.'s  wealth  came  from  the  "  Co." 
The  "Co/'  was  a  thin,  angular,  misbegotten  son  of  man,  who  had 
discovered  or  invented  a  cheap  soap  that  was  fair  to  look  at,  sweet 
to  smell,  and  bound  to  remove  the  dirt  if  it  took  the  skin.  There 
was  one  fact  generall}r  recognized,  and  that  was  that  ( Id  Fakin, 
the  inventor,  never  tried  the  soap  upon  himself.  As  he  grew  rich, 
he  bought  a  huge  diamond,  and  when  he  put  on  full  dress  it  con 
sisted  simply  in  placing  this  head-light  of  a  locomotive  in  his  dirty 
shirt-bosom.  No  one  knew  when  the  "Co."  was  b^rn.  I  doubt 
whether  any  one  ever  inquired.  This  was  before  the  newspapers 
went  into  the  production  of  hideous  cuts  from  their  cheap  process 
that  pillory  everybody,  and  make  the  subject  writhe  in  anguish, 
and  one's  family  and  friends  fairly  howl  in  wrath.  Had  Fakin 
survived  to  this  day.  he  would  have  had  his  face,  that  was  ugly 
enough  to  scare  horses,  adorning  the  fifty  columns  of  the  New 
York  World,  and  two-thirds  of  the  readers  would  have  passed  it 
with  a  glance  of  horror  as  the  head  of  an  assassin  or  Jay  Gould. 

A  solitary,  miserly  man,  of  no  emotions  beyond  the  accumula 
tion  of  money,  the  ' '  Co. ''  one  day  took  old  Diedrich's  breath  by 
proposing  to  marry  Catrina,  his  partner's  only  child.  Had  he 
suggested  to  the  father  that  the  two  should  walk  hand-in-hand  to 
the  centre  of  the  Brooklyn  Bridge  and  then  jump  off,  he  could  not 
have  been  more  astonished.  But  how  is  that  about  "Sin,"  that 
we  first  decline  an  introduction  to  and  end  by  embracing?  In  the 
same  way  Von  Co*t  had  come  to  regard  the  "  Co."  This  Sin-on- 
legs  had  grown  familiar — in  a  business  way,  it  is  true — but  it  had 
paved  the  way  to  the  matrimonial  proposition  ;  and  the  senior, 
after  recovering  from  the  shock,  began  to  think  that  it  would  not 
be  a  bad  arrangement  after  all.  He  had  been  worried  over  Fakin's 
getting  out  of  the  business  as  much  as  he  did.  and  now  the  way 
was  open.  He  told  Fakin  he  would  refer  the  matter  to  Catrina, 
and  he  did. 

This  "sole  heiress  of  his  house  and  heart"  had  bloomed  into  a 
German  angel,  such  as  Rubens  was  wont  to  paint.  One,  at  first 
glance,  was  struck  with  her  large  blue  eyes  and  white  little  teeth. 
Then  came  the  delicate  to  notice  complexion,  in  which  the  peach 
seemed  to  tinge  the  purest  cream,  while  her  hair  was  light, 


H2  THE   GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE. 

and  soft.  Her  figure  was  voluptuous  without  being  coarse,  and 
altogether  the  little  girl  had  a  right  to  rule  her  fond  old  father,  for 
she  was  so  cunning  in  her  ways,  as  well  as  beautiful  in  his  sight. 

When  the  paternal  Diedrich  came  to  consider  his  rash  promise 
to  submit  the  proposition  to  his  daughter,  he  was  not  altogether 
certain  as  to  how  it  would  be  received.  At  last,  however,  he 
screwed  his  courage  to  the  sticking-point,  and  said  : 

"  Catrina  !  mine  pardner,  Fakin,  lubs  you  !  " 

"  Well,  mine  fadder  ! "  responded  the  little  girl,  imitating  his 
broken  English.  "  I  am  glad  he  loves  something  besides  his 
money." 

"  Mine  chile,  he  me  asks  dot  you  marry  mid  him." 

The  girl  opened  her  beautiful  blue  eyes  and  broke  into  an  un 
controllable  fit  of  laughter,  in  which,  vainly  endeavoring  to  restrain 
himself,  the  father  joined. 

"  Well/'  she  said,  recovering  her  speech,  "  you  tell  Mr.  Eakin 
that  I  am  much  obliged,  and  if  he  really  wants  a  wife  I'll  speak  a 
good  word  for  him  to  the  Widow  Borgman." 

Again  a  merry  peal  rang  out,  in  which  the  old  man  joined  with  a 
tumultuous  shaking  of  his  stomach,  until  there  was  danger  to  the 
buttons  of  his  vest. 

"Veil,  veil,  Catrina,  I  dells  him,  but,  mine  chile,  I  gets  old 
burty  soon,  and  you  must  a  husband  have  burty  soon,  too,  eh  ?  " 

"Yes,  mine  fadder,"  she  said,  sitting  upon  his  knee,  and  put 
ting  her  arms  about  his  neck,  ' '  I  have  been  thinking  of  that." 

"  Ah,  you  little  rogue,  you  aboud  dat  tinks,  eh  ?"  he  said,  fond 
ly  stroking  her  silken  hair. 

"  Yes,  and  I  was  going  to  tell  you  this  very  day.  I  promised 
Tom  I  would." 

"  Yas  ?    Tom  !— vot,  Catrina  ?  " 

"  I  mean  that  Tom  Slater  loves  me,  and  1  love  him,  and  we're 
going  to  be  married. " 

"  Catrina,  you  preaks  your  old  f adder's  heart — vot  you  say  I 
cannot  mine  ears  pelieve — Tom  Slater  !  dot  veller  vot  works  mine 
vactory  in  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  and  he's  just  the  handsomest,  cleverest,  and  best 
fellow  in.  the  world." 


THE  GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE.  143 

"  Catrina  ! "  said  her  father  solemnly,  as  he  put  her  from  him, 
"  Catrina  !  you  dot  Teller  drops  alreaty.  Mine  Cot !  mine  Catrina 
marry  such  Tellers  as  dot ! " 

'•  Why,  father,  you  began  in  that  way — you  know  you  did,  and 
Tom's  just  as  good  as  we  are — and  I  IOTC  him — and — and,  if  you 
don't  let  us  marry,  Fll— I'll— kill  myself."  And  the  girl  began  to 
weep. 

'•  Catrina,  Catrina  !  you  stops  dot.  You  ish  Tun  grand  lady, 
mid  money,  eber  so  much  monies.  You,  a  vorkman  in  mine  Tac- 
tory  marry  mid  Catrina  !  If  dot  Teller  comes  mine  house  round,  I 
hid  mid  a  shtick  !  " 

The  little  Catrina  knew  the  paternal  author  of  her  being  well 
enough  to  be  satisfied  that  he  was  not  only  in  earnest  about  this, 
but  that  any  attempt  to  moTe  him  from  his  resolve  would  be  in 
Tain.  He  was  amiable  in  all  small  things,  but  obstinate  as  a 
mule  in  matters  when  he  made  up  his  mind  to  be  firm. 

The  little  girl  managed  to  meet  her  loTer  and  report  the  sad  re 
sult  of  her  interview.  The  place  of  meeting  was  not  poetic,  being 
in  the  store-room,  amid  great  piles  of  boxes,  containing  the  Won 
derful  Soap  and  the  Superior  Candles.  But  Tom  looked  enough 
handsome  to  make  up  for  all  lost  in  that  direction.  He  was  a  tall, 
square-shouldered  good  looking  young  man,  and.  under  his  paper 
cap  and  blue-flannel  shirt,  would  haTe  won  the  heart  of  Oscar 
Wilde. 

"  Well,  frauline,  are  you  going  to  throw  me  OTer  for  old  Skee- 
zicks?"  Tom  asked. 

Catrina  had  inherited  something  of  her  father's  firmness,  and 
she  said  ' '  she'd  die  first/'  Tom  sealed  the  TOW  with  a  long  Abbott- 
kiss  on  her  loTely  mouth,  that  she  held  up  to  him  with  an  inno- 
'cent  faith  of  a  Mather's  abandon  that  makes  her  Juliet  so  fascinat 
ing. 

"  I  say,  Catrina,  my  kitten,"  cried  Tom,  "if  you'll  stand  by  me, 
and  do  as  I  want  you,  we'll  fetch  the  old  bird  round  in  no  time." 

Catrina  promised,  and  then  followed  a  long  confidential  talk, 
that  ended  with  the  little  girl  returning  to  her  carriage,  holding 
a  knowing  smile  upon  her  lovely  face,  while  Tom  returned  to  the 
counting-room  with  a  grin  that  he  punctuated  with  no  end  of  winks 


144  THE  GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE. 

and  finger-snapping,  that  made  old  Fakin  stare,  and  the  clerks  be 
lieve  that  Tom  had  been  indulging  in  liquor. 

About  that  time  the  city  was  disturbed  by  certain  socialist  dem 
onstrations  of  a  most  unpleasant  sort  to  the  solid  men,  who  were 
singularly  prejudiced  against  any  other  treatment  of  property  than 
that  which  pertained  to  their  possession.  This  culminated  in  the 
explosion  of  some  dynamite  bombs  under  bay-windows  that  shat 
tered  a  large  amount  of  plate-glass  and  scared  a  truck  horse,  an  ex 
perienced  and  aged  animal,  to  such  an  extent  that  he  fell  down,  and 
although  much  urged  by  an  efficient  police  refused  positively  to 
get  up  again.  I  believe  the  efforts  of  the  efficient  police  ended  in 
setting  this  aged  animal  on  his  legs  again.  Nothing  was  ever 
known  as  to  the  origin  of  this  explos'on  save  a  significant  wink 
and  a  solemn  shake  of  the  head  by  0  Donovan  Kossa,  which  cleared 
the  great  Irish  patriot  of  any  suspicion  as  to  his  having  any  hand 
in  the  violence. 

The  corpulent  Diedrich  shared  with  the  other  solid  men  a  prej 
udice  against  such  unseemly  conduct.  But  his  disgust  was  in 
tensified,  not  long  after,  by  receiving  an  anonymous  letter,  not 
only  written  in  red  ink,  in  which  he  was  denounced  as  a  "  bloody 
bondholder,  doomed  to  death,"  but  adorned  with  an  awful  picture 
of  a  skull  and  cross-bones,  over  a  cut  of  a  very  fat  man  swung  up 
by  the  neck.  The  miserable  soap  and  candle-maker  affected  to  re 
gard  this  as  "  dam 't  foolishness/'  but  his  hands  trembled,  while 
the  red  left  all  of  his  face,  save  and  except  his  corpulent  nose, 
that  seemed  to  deepen  in  color  while  the  alarm  lasted. 

Catrina  seemed  more  alarmed  than  any  one  else,  and  begged  her 
dear  father  to  send  the  wretches  all  his  bonds,  and  not  to  move 
from  house  or  store  without  a  body-guard,  in  the  person  of  the 
valiant  and  active  Tom  Slater.  The  old  gentleman  pooh-poohed  I 
both  propositions.  But,  terror  seized  him  the  day  after,  when  he 
went  to  shave  in  the  morning,  and  found  another  missive,  skull 
and  cross-bone?,  suspended  fat  man  and  all,  beneath  his  shaving- 
glass.  After  that  he  could  not  open  his  paper,  or  turn  down  the 
sheets  of  his  bed,  without  encountering  this  awful  warning,  and 
he  began  to  think  seriously  of  Catrina's  advice,  as  to  a  body-guard. 

The  troubled  mind  of  the  worthy  old  gentleman  turned  him  at 


THE   GREAT  DYNAMITE  SCARE.  145 

last  to  the  handsome  Tom,  who  readily  undertook  the  guardian 
ship  of  the  threatened  man.  As  there  seemed  to  be  no  let-up  in 
the  terrible  threats,  Mr.  Von  Cott  clung  to  his  protector  in  the 
most  confiding  manner. 

One  evening,  after  a  pleasant  little  dinner-party,  at  which  the 
amorous  Fakin  appeared  in  full  dress — that  is,  with  his  diamond 
pin  to  the  front— and  several  friends  were  gathered  in  the  parlor, 
the  men  smoking,  while  Catrina  gave  them  some  complicated 
Wagnerian  music  at  the  piano,  a  bomb  was  thrown  in  at  the  win 
dow.  It  was  an  awful  thing,  about  the  size  of  a  cocoanut,  quite 
as  round,  and  had  issuing  from  a  hole  a  blue  fire  that  burned  and 
smoked  in  the  most  fearful  manner.  The  women  shrieked  and  fled, 
the  men  scattered,  the  servants  yelled  as  they  disappeared,  while 
the  thin  old  Fakin  shot  out  at  the  door  and  never  stopped  running 
until  he  gained  the  depot,  and  took  passage  to  Yonkers.  Old  Mr. 
Diedrich  went  down  in  a  sitting  position.  The  only  one  present 
who  exhibited  any  presence  of  mind  was  Tom  Slater.  AVith  a  cool 
ness  and  courage  that  cannot  be  overpraised,  he  seized  the  deadly 
bomb,  and,  carrying  it  to  the  rear  of  the  house,  threw  it  into  the 
back-yard,  where  it  exploded  with  a  sickening  thud  that  made 
Diedrich  Von  Cott's  heart  sink  into  his  shoes. 

After  that  all  opposition  to  Tom  Slater's  wooing  was  withdrawn. 
A  parent  will  do  much  for  his  daughters  happiness,  and  a  good 
deal  more  for  his  own  safety.  The  lovers  were  duly  married,  and, 
strange  to  say.  no  mor^  skulls,  cross  bones,  suspended  fat  men,  or 
bombs  appeared  to  mar  the  domestic  felicity  of  the  Von  Cott 
family. 


A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS. 

NOVEL  XIV. 

CONSULT  any  number  of  boys  as  to  their  favorite  animal,  and 
nine  out  of  ten  will  cast  their  free  suffrage  in  favor  of  Bruin. 
There  is  something  about  the  bear  that  fascinates  a  boy.  The  lit 
tle  four-year-old,  climbing  upon  your  knee,  will  call  for  a  story 
about  bears,  and  after  hearing  the  thrilling  recital  he  will  get 
down  behind  a  chair  and  act  the  part,  to  the  mute  amazement  of 
his  little  sister. 

This  interest  in  the  clumsy  creature  seems  to  be  as  instinctive 
as  our  horror  of  snakes.  My  earliest  adventure,  that  had  conse 
quences  of  sufficient  importance  to  procure  me  a  paternal  thrash 
ing,  and  leave  a  life-long  remembrance,  came  of  an  attempt  to 
play  bear.  Surreptitiously  possessing  myself  of  a  hair-rug  that 
ordinarily  graced  the  hall,  I  pulled  it  over  my  back  and  head  and 
hid  behind  the  gate,  where  a  beautiful  hawthorn  hedge  afforded 
superb  concealment,  and  solemnly  determined  to  ' '  scare  some  one 
into  fits."  That  "some  one"  happened  to  be  old  Uncle  Shack's 
horse  Gunpowder,  so  called  from  the  difficulty  experienced  in  get 
ting  him  to  go  off. 

Now  this  Uncle  Shack  was  an  American  citizen  of  African 
descent,  a  sort  of  commissary  attached  to  our  family  headquarters. 
He  had  become  superannuated  at  the  age  of  forty,  and  devoted 
the  remainder  of  his  colored  existence  to  a  light  pursuit  of  vegeta 
bles.  At  the  time  I  proposed  to  make  his  aged  horse  acquainted 
with  bears,  Uncle  Shack  was  about  sixty,  gray-haired,  blear  eyed, 
and  with  well-settled  convictions,  the  most  prominent  of  which 
appeared  to  be  that  boys,  as  a  general  thing,  ought  to  be  killed. 
On  this  occasion,  having  gathered  an  assortment  of  vegetables,  he 
stood  up  in  his  crazy  vehicle,  such  only  as  a  negro  can  devise,  and 
drove  slowly  to  his  doom.  His  horse  had  a  tradition  attached  to 


A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS.  147 

him  that  at  one  time  in  his  past  life  he  had  been  a  spirited  ani 
mal.  Wild  stories  were  afloat  of  deeds  on  the  road  that  were  pos 
itively  incredible  to  the  observer.  He  was,  at  the  time  referred 
to,  a  living  hat-rack,  with  nothing  left  of  his  former  activity  but 
an  eccentric  movement  in  his  right  hind  leg,  that  came  of  the 
string-halt,  and,  while  the  animal  seemed  to  be  moving  with  the 
solemnity  of  a  funeral,  this  leg  continued  the  famous  old  trot  of 
the  road. 

When  directly  opposite  my  ambush,  I  moved  out,  with 
head  covered,  on  my  hands  and  knees,  growling  in  approved  bear- 
fashion.  Gunpowder  at  first  seemed  lost  in  amazement.  He 
stopped  abruptly,  stared,  and  then,  as  I  approached  making  hide 
ous  noises,  he  gave  a  fierce  snort,  and  actually  broke  into  a  gallop. 
Uncle  Shack  attempted  to  arrest  this  by  wild  orders  of  "Whoa  ! 
whoa  I"  and  drafts  upon  the  reins.  These  last  were  old  and  de 
cayed  ;  in  the  midst  of  the  effort  they  snapped,  and  the  aged 
African  came  down  in  a  sitting  position  upon  his  vegetables. 

The  fates  then  took  command.  From  the  gate  to  a  bridge 
below  the  mill  the  road  was  descending.  Along  this  I  saw  and 
heard  the  doomed  vehicle  roll  and  rattle.  The  race  was  not  swift, 
but  it  was  portentous  in  its  noise  and  grave  in  its  consequences. 
The  wild  horse  of  the  vegetable  garden,  unguided,  missed  the 
wooden  structure,  and  I  saw  wagon,  rider,  horse,  and  all  disappear 
down  a  dreadful  abyss  of  six  feet.  Then  followed  a  silence  fearful 
in  its  contrast  to  the  late  uproar.  The  wagon,  horse,  and  man,  so 
full  of  vigorous  life  and  sense,  seemed  to  drop  through  a  hole  and 
vanish  from  the  earth. 

With  that  diplomatic  ability  that  has  since  distinguished  me, 
I  ran  into  the  house,  replaced  the  rug,  and  was  among  the  first 
to  give  the  alarm.  Indeed,  no  proof  could  be  adduced  that  I  had 
been  guilty  of  this  outrage  on  bears  and  Africans,  but  I  was  sub 
sequently  thrashed  on  presumption. 

The  vehicular  convenience  for  vegetables  was  fished  out.     The 
horse  died  soon  after  from  over-exertion,  and  Uncle  Shack  sur 
vivedthe  shock  only  twenty  years.     He  dated  from  that  event  his 
decline  and  death,  and,  retiring  from  business,  existed  on  the  char 
ity  of  the  family  and  a  detailed  account  of  the  dreadful  affair. 


148  A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS. 

Looked  at  from  an  intellectual  point  of  view,  Bruin  can 
scarcely  be  considered  a  success.  He  lacks  the  keen  instinct  of 
the  dog  and  the  ponderous  sagacity  of  the  elephant.  He  has  no 
sense  of  fun  in  his  composition.  He  is  as  serious  as  an  ass,  and 
far  more  stupid.  Numerous  stories  were  told  us  in  early  youth 
touching  this  lack  of  common-sense,  such,  for  example,  as  that  of 
the  man  in  the  wilds  of  the  West  who  was  superintending  a  saw 
mill.  While  sitting  upon  the  log  that  was  being  sawed,  and  eat 
ing  his  frugal  repast,  a  huge  black  bear  suddenly  bounced  in  and 
invited  himself  to  dinner.  The  proprietor  politely  withdrew, 
clambering  into  the  rafters  above,  while  Bruin  took  his  place  upon 
the  log  and  continued  the  meal.  In  a  few  seconds  the  approach 
ing  saw  touched  the  rump  of  the  bear,  and  he  edged  forward.  It 
again  rasped  him,  and  he  resented  the  indignity  with  a  growl. 
The  third  time  he  turned  furiously  and  hugged  the  saw.  Then  a 
contest  ensued  that  was  very  lively  but  exceedingly  brief.  At  the 
end  the  modest  sawyer  descended  to  find  a  remnant  of  his  dinner 
and  considerable  bear-meat. 

Again,  we  were  assured  that  the  common  way  of  killing  bears 
in  Hard  in  forests  was  to  suspend  a  log  by  a  grape-vine  to  a  bee- 
tree.  Bruin,  who  is  passionately  fond  of  honey,  in  ascending  the 
tree  would  knock  the  log  aside  with  his  paw.  The  log  returning 
would  hit  and  infuriate  the  bear,  and,  a  contest  arising  be 
tween  the  two,  would  bring  the  poor  beast  to  grief — for  the  harder 
he  would  strike  the  more  severe  would  be  the  rebound.  Not  a 
bad  fable  is  that  to  illustrate  the  evil  which  comes  to  the  individ 
ual  who  creates  strife  in  his  own  heart  through  hate,  envy,  malice, 
and  all  uncharitableness. 

This  fondness  for  sweets  is  only  equalled  by  Bruin's  taste  for 
infant  pig.  He  cannot  resist  the  squeal  of  the  young  porker,  and 
will  run  his  stupid  head  into  all  sorts  of  traps  baited  with  the  liv 
ing  animal. 

There  is  a  certain  lumpish  activity  about  the  bear  that  is  ex 
tremely  diverting.  One  must  not  count  too  positively,  however, 
on  his  lack  of  dexterity.  The  late  witty  and  eccentric  Judge 
Tappan  once  had  a  realizing  sense  of  this.  He,  with  two  or  three 
companions,  was  boating  on  Lake  Erie,  near  Sandusky,  at  an  early 


A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS.  149 

day,  when  they  observed  a  bear  swimming  from  the  mainland 
toward  an  island.  The  party,  armed  only  with  an  axe.  rowed  in 
pursuit.  As  they  approached  their  proposed  prey,  the  Judge 
stood  with  axe  in  hand,  intending  to  hit  Bruin  on  the  skull.  But 
the  animal,  eyeing  his  enemy  warily,  was  prepared,  and  as  the  axe 
descended  he  turned  suddenly  in  the  water,  and  with  one  swift 
stroke  of  his  paw  sent  it  flying  from  the  grasp  of  his  foe  far  into 
the  lake.  Then  Bruin  passed  from  the  defensive  to  a  vigorous 
attack,  and  began  climbing  into  the  boat  To  take  such  a  passen 
ger  aboard  was  exceedingly  unpleasant,  and,  armed  with  oars,  the 
party  used  due  diligence.  It  proved  impossible  to  keep  him  out, 
but  by  quick  concerted  action  they  succeeded  in  passing  him  over 
into  the  water  again.  The  bear  returned  to  the  charge,  and  was 
again  tumbled  out.  In  the  third  assault  the  boat  was  so  filled 
with  water  that  it  capsized,  and  the  adventurous  pioneers  found 
themselves  swimming  for  life.  Bruin  was  master  of  the  situation. 
but  stupidly  declined  the  advantage  As  the  party,  clinging  to 
the  oars,  swam  away,  thev  saw  the  bear  seated  upon  the  upturned 
boat  regarding  their  exertions  with  philosophical  indifference. 

The  common  brown  bear  of  North  America  is  an  insignificant 
creature  ;  and  it  remained  for  the  grizzly  bear  of  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains  to  give  dignity  to  the  species.  What  an  immense,  fearful 
animal  it  is  !  We  owe  much  to  the  grizzly  bear.  He  aided,  in 
lieu  of  war,  to  lift  our  money-getting  people  to  a  higher  level  of 
manhood.  Nothing  but  the  discovery  of  gold  in  California  could 
drag  us  from  our  counting-rooms,  workshops,  and  fields.  The 
hazardous  crossing  of  vast  deserts  and  trackless  mountains,  the 
fights  with  Indians,  and,  above  all,  the  adventures  with  the  grizzly 
bear,  developed  the  manhood  found,  strange  to  say,  in  the  com 
bative  instincts  of  our  nature.  I  never  meet  with  a  Calif ornian 
now  bi  t  I  am  impressed  with  the  presence  of  a  stronger  and  larger 
man  than  the  ordinary  American. 

An  encounter  with  a  grizzly  bear  is  fraught  with  peril.  The 
creature  s  strength,  courage,  and  strange  vitality,  make  the  deadly 
contest  nearly  even  between  the  armed  man  and  the  unarmed 
beast.  Heaven  help  the  hunter  whose  unsteady  aim  leaves  the 
bear  uncrippled.  Before  he  can  reload,  the  enemy  will  be  upon 


150  A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS. 

his  works.  When  the  contest  is  narrowed  to  that  pass,  Daniel 
Boone's  celebrated  prayer,  when  the  famous  pioneer  found  himself 
face  to  face  with  the  common  brown  bear,  would  be  a  v\  aste  of 
breath.  The  petition  is  well  worth  puiting  to  record  as  a  speci 
men  of  Western  humor,  if  not  an  incident  in  the  life  of  Boone. 
"0  Lord/'  piously  cried  the  fighter,  in  the  brief  pause  given  him 
previous  to  the  deadly  combat  between  a  scalping-knife  and  the 
claws,  "here's  a-goin'  to  be  one  of  the  biggest  b'ar-fights  you 
ever  did  see.  0  Lord,  ef  you  can't  help  me,  for  God's  sake  don't 
help  the  b'ar." 

A  friend  of  mine,  a  bold  hunter  from  England,  told  me  once 
of  a  scrape  he  found  himself  in,  while  hunting  the  grizzly  bear  of 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  He  came  upon  his  prey  quite  unexpectedly, 
and  man  and  beast  stared  at  each  other  in  some  astonishment,  not 
fifty  yards  apart.  The  bear  exhibited  no  disposition  of  a  mo  Jest 
or  retiring  sort,  and  my  friend  made  haste  to  tender  him  a  warm 
reception.  He  fired  with  more  quickness  than  accuracy.  The 
bullet  from  the  heavy  rifle  tore  away  a  portion  of  Bruin's  ear,  and, 
grazing  the  skull,  stunned  the  brute  for  an  instant.  The  hunter 
hastened  to  reload,  but  before  he  could  do  so  the  bear  had  regained 
his  legs,  and,  although  somewhat  groggy,  came  at  his  enemy.  My 
friend  had  time  only  to  drop  his  rifle  and  spring  into  a  tree,  up 
which  he  clambered  with  an  activity  worthy  of  earlier  youth. 
Grizzly,  one  of  the  largest,  made  short  work  of  the  rifle.  Then  he 
sat  on  his  haunches  and  gazed  stupidly  at  the  man  in  the  tree. 
As  the  pain  of  his  mutilated  ear  increased,  he  grew  furious,  and, 
seizing  the  pine  in  which  his  enemy  had  taken  refuge,  he  fairly 
shook  it  in  his  rage.  My  friend  had  a  revolver  in  his  belt,  and,  bring 
ing  this  to  bear,  he  favored  Bruin  with  six  shots.  He  might  as 
well  have  popped  his  lead  into  an  iron-clad.  At  every  discharge 
the  bear  expressed  intense  disgust  and  renewed  his  assault  upon 
the  tree. 

A  seat  upon  the  branches  of  a  tree  is  not  comfortable  at  any 
time  ;  but  with  a  bear  below  on  the  watch,  it  may  be  considered 
exceedingly  unpleasant.  Hours  wore  slowly  away,  with  the  bear 
moving  about,  at  times  in  full  view,  and  again  hidden  by  the  un 
derbrush.  At  last,  about  sunset,  he  took  himself  off,  and  our 


A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS.  151 

hunter  was  about  to  descend,  when  he  again  heard  reports  from 
his  enemy.  These  were  fierce  growls  of  rage  that  issued  from  a 
gorge  near  by.  My  friend  at  first  supposed  the  bear  had  encoun 
tered  other  hunters,  but,  as  he  heard  no  sound  of  guns  nor  other 
evidences  of  mortal  combat,  he  resumed  his  seat  and  listened.  The 
mysterious  uproar  continued,  and  what  was  s  range  appeared  in 
the  fact  that  it  came  from  the  same  spot.  Unarmed,  and  faint 
from  hunger  and  fatigue,  my  friend  remained  all  night  clinging  to 
his  perch  ;  and  at  intervals  he  heard  the  bear  growling  and  tearing 
furiously.  The  comical  idea  seized  on  the  hunter,  that  Bruin  had 
stupidly  mistaken  some  other  pine  for  the  one  that  sheltered  his 
enemy. 

The  night  wore  slowly  away.  The  stars,  glittering  as  stars  can 
glitter  only  in  those  mountain  regions,  passed  in  their  solemn 
march,  while  the  deep  forests  of  evergreens  we:e  full  of  strange 
noises  to  which  the  bear  added  through  his  eccentric  conduct. 
My  friend  slept  from  time  to  time,  and  invariably  dreamed  of  fall 
ing,  to  waken  with  a  start,  and  find  himself  clinging  to  the 
branches  of  the  pine.  When  a  man  sleeps  in  a  tree,  the  muscles 
necessary  to  his  safety  do  not  relax  as  in  an  ordinary  sleep  ;  but  when 
through  fatigue  they  are  about  to  lose  their  tension,  the  sleeper 
is  awakened  by  a  dream.  This  is  one  of  the  singular  little  p1  e- 
nomena  we  overlook  while  in  search  of  larger  ones.  Who  has  not 
seen  a  mother  in  a  railroad  car  or  stage-coach,  holding  her  infant 
when  tired  nature  had  forced  sleep  upon  h  r  ?  Her  head  will  drop 
in  sleep  upon  her  breast,  but  the  arms  will  not  sleep  ;  and  when, 
exhausted,  the  muscles  are  about  to  relax  and  let  the  child  fall, 
the  loving  mother  will  awaken  with  a  start  and  gather  her  babe 
nearer  to  her  heart.  Of  the  same  sort  is  the  fact  so  familiar  to  us 
all,  that  when  one  is  about  to  start  upon  a  journey  early  in  the 
morning,  and  fixes  in  his  mind  before  going  to  sleep  the  hour  nec 
essary  to  awaken,  at  that  hour  the  sleeper  will  start  into  conscious 
ness  as  if  shaken  by  some  friend.  And  I  have  often  asked  what 
part  of  us  it  is  that  remains  awake  to  guard  the  infant  or  arouse 
the  sleeper.  The  evidences  of  a  spiritual  life  lie  all  about  us,  but, 
like  our  Saviour  in  the  manger,  seem  so  humble  and  insignificant 
that  we  magnificent  creatures  take  no  notice  of  them. 


152  A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS. 

But  to  return  to  my  friend.  Day  dawned  at  last,  and  be  crawled 
down,  sore,  faint,  and  hungry.  He  was  about  to  gather  up  the 
fragments  of  his  rifle  and  hurry  back  to  camp,  when  a  fresh  burst 
of  rage  from  the  wounded  bear,  and  issuing  from  the  same  locality 
as  during  the  night,  so  excited  his  curiosity  that  he  determined  to 
investigate,  and  therefore  crept  cautiously  towards  the  gorge  from 
whence  the  noise  proceeded.  The  explanation  made  him  laugh. 
Old  grizzly  had  fallen  into  a  log  trap,  such  as  hunters  set  when 
seeking  to  capture  a  living  specimen.  There  was  the  last  night's 
foe  well  secured,  and  my  friend  was  mean  enough  to  laugh  in  his 
face,  while  regarding  curiously  the  wound  his  hastily  discharged 
rifle  had  made.  The  left  ear  was  torn  away. 

Nearly  a  year  after  this  event,  my  friend,  the  assistant  hero  of 
the  adventure,  was  passing  along  East  Broadway,  in  New  York, 
when  his  attention  was  attracted  by  a  sickly  hand-organ  that  made 
an  orchestra  to  the  show  of  a  grizz-ly  bear,  with  the  usual  accom 
paniment  of  a  fat  woman,  the  anacondas,  a  calf  with  two  heads 
and  an  assortment  of  tails,  and  a  monkey.  Wishing  to  renew  his 
acquaintance  with  an  animal  that  had  so  nearly  closed  his  career, 
my  friend  paid  the  necessary  dime,  and  entered  through  a  f  ul 
odor  of  decaying  sawdust  and  fried  sausages.  To  his  amazement, 
in  a  huge  iron  cage,  scarcely  large  enough  to  allow  him  standing 
room,  was  the  grizzly  bear  he  had  marked  in  the  mountains.  He 
had  been  carried  to  San  Francisco,  and  won  great  renown  in  several 
fights  with  bulls  and  dogs.  He  was  now  being  exhib  ted  en  the 
Atlantic  slope  to  admiring  thousands.  My  friend  tried  to  catch 
the  eye  of  his  old  adversary,  but  in  vain.  The  creature's  ill-tem 
per  seemed  to  survive  his  many  fights  and  long  confinement ;  for 
an  awkward  fellow,  evidently  from  the  interior,  turned  rather 
near  the  cage  to  gaze  at  the  Corpulent  Woman,  then  being 
festooned  with  anacondas,  when  old  grizzly  with  a  growl  threw  out 
his  huge  paw  with  such  force,  rapidity,  and  precision,  that  not 
only  the  back  of  the  countryman's  coat,  but  the  seat  of  his  stout 
pantaloons  disappeared.  My  friend  left  the  place  in  the  midst  of 
a  fierce  altercation  between  the  country  fellow  and  the  showman, 
as  to  who  should  pay  for  " them  clothes." 

The  strange  acquaintance  did  not  end  with  this.     Years  after, 


A   STORY  ABOUT  BEARS.  153 

in  a  visit  with  some  friends  to  the  Zoological  Gardens  of  Paris,  the 
Englishman  was  delighted  to  recognize  again  his  former  foe.  Old 
age,  added  to  a  better  knowledge  of  the  world,  had  not  only  sub 
dued  his  ugly  disposition,  but  life  in  Paris  affected  him  as  it  does 
all  native  Americans,  and  rendered  the  beast  positively  luxurious. 
He  received  a  bone  kindly  from  his  once  deadly  opponent,  and,  as 
the  weather  was  extremely  warm,  he  rolled  into  his  stone  trough  to 
lie  on  his  back,  permitting  the  cool  water  to  trickle  over  his  hairy 
head,  while  he  lazily  gnawed  at  the  bone.  This  falling  from  his 
indolent  grasp,  he  closed  his  eyes  and  dropped  off  into  a  sleep,  to 
dream  such  stuff  as  bears'  dreams  are  made  of. 

I  was  once  told  how  a  bear  was  used  to  illustrate  a  fact  in  sci 
ence.  It  was  at  an  early  day  in  the  history  of  galvanism.  A  negro 
had  been  condemned  to  suffer  death  on  the  gallows  for  murder  in 
Cincinnati,  and  some  learned  men  announced  that,  for  and  in  con 
sideration  of  twenty-five  cents  admission,  to  be  collected  at  the 
door,  for  the  benefit  of  a  hospital,  experiments  with  the  galvanic 
battery  would  be  made  upon  the  body  of  the  miserable  man.  A 
circus  tent  had  been  procured  for  the  purpose,  and  the  medical 
savans  counted  largely  on  the  profits  to  accrue. 

The  fatal  day  came,  and  with  it  thousands  on  thousands  of 
people,  men,  women,  and  children,  to  witness  the  perpetuation  of 
this  remnant  of  stupid  barbarism  called  hanging.  From  midnight 
until  morn,  from  all  the  hills  and  valleys  of  Kentucky,  Ohio,  and 
Indiana,  came  pouring  in  the  motley  crowd  of  ignorant,  curious 
humanity.  The  taverns,  stores,  streets,  and  alleys  were  crowded 
with  people  ;  and  when  the  sentence  hour  approached,  the  proces 
sion  that  accompanied  the  cart  made  a  sensitive  mind  sick  of  the 
human  race. 

The  better  cultivated  and  more  refined  gathered  in  the  huge 
tent  to  witness  the  scientific  experiments,  that  promised  to  restore 
the  wretched  convict  to  life,  or,  failing  in  that,  to  make  his  dead 
body  struggle  and  kick  in  the  mo?t  exciting  manner.  The  prep 
arations  were  significant  and  startling.  Near  the  centre  of  the 
sawdust  ring  was  a  table,  and  by  it  the  wonderful  instrument  that 
was  believed  to  hold  the  mysterious  essence  of  life.  About 
them  were  gathered  in  groups  the  medicated  philosophers  con- 


154  A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS. 

versing  in  low  measured  tones,  or  walking  to  and  fro,  calmly  in 
different  to  the  gathered  crowd,  as  great  men  are  wont  to  do  on 
such  occasions. 

Hours  wore  away.  The  noon  came  and  passed.  The  excite 
ment  grew  intense.  At  last  a  rumor  spread  and  reached  the  tent 
that  the  sentenced  man  had  been  reprieved  upon  the  scaffold.  This 
was  confirmed  by  the  returning  crowd,  that  pushed  in  without 
paying  and  packed  every  available  space.  Hisses  and  cries  of  dis 
content  broke  out,  and  were  taken  up  by  the  motley  crew  of  the 
non-paying  audience,  in  a  high  state  of  wrath  at  being  disappointed 
in  the  hanging  In  the  midst  of  the  tumult  Professor  D — 
mounted  the  table,  and,  commanding  silence,  said  :  e<  Ladies  and 
gentlemen,  we  regret  deeply  that  a  mistaken  clemency  on  the 
part  of  the  Governor  has  robbed  the  gallows  of  its  own  and  science 
of  a  subject.  It  is  impossible  to  return  you  your  money,  for  so 
many  have  rushed  in  without  paying,  and  they  would  be  precisely 
the  sort  to  demand  the  admission  fee.  We  have  determined,  how 
ever,  so  that  you  may  not  be  disappointed  in  your  laudable  curios 
ity  to  witness  an  execution  and  those  wonderful  exhibitions  of 
modern  science,  to  purchase  of  Mr.  Brown  a  bear  that  he  has  fat 
tened  to  kill,  hang  the  animal  here,  and  then  proceed  with  our 
experiments.  Will  this  satisfy  you  ? '' 

An  uproarious  and  unanimous  shout  in  the  affirmative  was  the 
response.  The  bear  was  sent  for.  But  Bruin  had  not  been  con 
sulted,  and  declined  the  engagement.  The  audience  waited 
impatiently  for  hours.  At  last  a  great  noise  of  men,  boys, 
and  dogs  on  the  outside  gave  welcome  note  of  the  coming 
event.  The  fat  janitor  of  the  Medical  College,  a  bald-headed  en 
thusiast  in  the  cause  of  physic,  appeared  inside  the  entrance,  tug 
ging  at  a  rope  that  seemed  to  be  held  by  some  reluctant  party 
outside.  So  reluctant  was  this  party  that  twice  the  fat  janitor 
disappeared,  pulled  back  by  superior  force.  The  janitor,  cheered 
by  the  crowd,  and  at  length  assisted  by  stout  men,  pulled  the  ani 
mal  into  the  arena. 

To  hang  a  bear  without  the  animal's  consent  (and  I  never 
heard  of  one  committing  suicide)  is  at  any  time  difficult  ;  but  to 
hang  a  fat  bear  is  almost  impossible.  The  muscular  neck  is  quite 


A  STORY  ABOUT  £  EARS.  155 

as  large  as  the  head,  and  on  this  occasion  Bruin  was  pulled  up 
twice,  and  twice,  assisted  by  his  paws,  he  twisted  his  neck  out  of 
the  noose  and  came  down  with  a  sickening  thud  amid  loud  cheers 
from  the  crowd  that  was  lapidly  passing  into  sympathy  with  the 
four-footed  animal.  The  third  attempt  proved  the  charm.  Bruin 
kicked  and  struggled  at  the  end  of  a  line  as  naturally  as  a  man 
would  have  done,  and  at  the  close  of  twenty  minutes  he  was  pro 
nounced  a  dead  bear  by  the  learned  faculty  in  attendance. 

The  body  was  lowered  with  some  haste  and  placed  upon  the 
table. 

Professor  D.,  getting  on  a  chair,  said:  "Ladies  and  gentle 
men,  we  have  at  last  hanged  the  bear.  To  satisfy  you,  however, 
that  he  is  dead,  we  will  now  proceed  to  amputate  his  tail." 

Loud  applause  followed  this  announcement.  It  prolonged  the 
show.  Brown,  the  butcher,  performed  the  surgical  operation  by 
one  blow  of  his  cleaver.  The  bear  never  moved,  but  the  flow  of 
blood  that  followed  demonstrated  that  hanging  a  bear  causes  a 
congestion  in  the  tail.  The  battery  was  applied  and  at  the  first 
shock  the  struggles  were  renewed.  At  the  second  discharge  the 
efforts  were  more  decided,  and  growls  were  added.  At  the  third 
shock  Bruin  sat  upon  his  haunches  and  gazed  stupidly  at  the 
audience.  The  audience  reciprocated  the  attention  by  still  louder 
cheers.  While  this  was  going  on,  the  subject  of  these  won 
derful  experiments  happened  to  get  sight  of  the  fat  janitor, 
and,  while  the  fourth  shock  was  being  administered,  he  suddenly, 
with  a  terrific  growl,  jumped  from  the  table  and  ran  after  his  cor 
pulent  foe.  The  ring,  that  up  to  this  moment  had  been  some 
what  crowded,  was  abruptly  cleared.  A  fair  field  was  given  the 
affrighted  official,  who  fairly  astonished  himself  at  the  r.»te  with 
which  he  carried  his  adipose  over  the  ground.  The  entertainment 
was  impromptu,  but  well  regulated,  and,  to  everybody  but  the 
janitor,  extremely  diverting.  The  two  were  near  enough  matched 
to  allow  even  bets,,  that  were  freely  offered  and  as  freely  taken. 
The  janitor  was  impelled  by  fear  ;  the  bear  by  electricity.  The 
janitor  was  short  of  wind;  the  bear  short  of  blood,  and  it  was  diffi 
cult  to  say  which  would  prove  the  victor. 

In  all  such  exhibitions,  however,  certain  women  are  sure  to 


156  A  STORY  ABOUT  BEARS. 

be  present  who  mar  the  enjoyment  by  screaming  at  the  wrong: 
moment,  and  then,  fainting,  force  people  to  carry  them  into  the= 
open  air.  This  is  to  be  reprehended,  and  the  women  should  be 
rebuked.  On  this  occasion,  when  the  popular  enjoyment  was; 
at  the  highest  and  the  hated  janitor — by  the  way,  a  body-snatcher 
— was  making  his  third  round,  with  the  bear  gaining  on  him, 
three  or  four  inconsiderate  women  began  screaming.  The 
people  of  that  day  were  familiar  with  bears  and  had  na 
fear  of  the  animal.  But  there  was  something  mysteriously 
alarming  about  a  bear  that  had  been  dead  and  was  alive 
again.  And  so  when  the  screams  were  heard  a  great  panic 
fell  upon  the  crowd.  The  effort  made  to  escape  was  fear 
ful.  Over  the  seats,  under  the  seats,  out  through  the  thin 
canvas  in  every  direction,  the  multitude  fled  like  rats  from  a  fall 
ing  house,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  tumult  the  canvas  came  down. 
Out  from  under  it  the  audie  ce  hurried,  climbing  on  fences  and 
roofs,  or  disappearing  down  streets  and  alleys.  Among  these  was- 
the  persecuted  janitor.  At  last  the  medicated  bear,  full  of  gal 
vanism,  appeared  and  set  off  over  the  common,  followed  by  all 
the  dogs  of  the  country. 

For  many  years  after  this  strange  event  in  Cincinnati  and  it& 
vicinity,  hanging  was  regarded  with  great  contempt.  The  simple' 
folk  believed  that  all  the  condemned  had  to  do  was  to  sell  him 
self  to  the  doctors.  "Then  those  learned  chaps  would  knock  a. 
little  lightning  into  the  body,  and  set  it  on  end  as  good  as  ever." 


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